Daughter of the Dunedain
by SophStratt
Summary: When Gandalf gives her a task, Alianor, daughter of the Dunedain and Elves, doesn't think twice. Alianor has always loved adventure. Yet Mithrandir didn't tell her he had also given the same task to Aragorn, her estranged love. They had parted ways, but will their love resurface? Will she be strong enough to resist the temptation of the Ring, and will she survive their fellowship?
1. The Prancing Pony

_Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,_

_Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,_

_Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, _

_One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne_

_In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie._

_One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,_

_One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them_

_In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie._

Ghost is what they call her in these parts. She has had many names in her extended lifetime but, in Buckland, she is known as Ghost. Not because she has fair hair or a pale complexion, because she only had pale skin. Her hair was darker than a raven's wings, and her skin was only a shade darker than that of the Elves. She was named Ghost, because people only saw glimpses of her, before she'd disappear out of sight again, usually using the shadows to hide herself.

Ghost had settled herself in the Prancing Pony's tavern, the hood of her cloak covering her face, and completely immersing herself into the shadow. She had been waiting a while, but thought as much. When Mithrandir had given her this task, she had been informed that there could be complications that might cause her charges a delayed arrival.

Her bare fingers rubbed invisible circles into the wood of the table she sat by, her eyes scanning the room. She had chosen this table, because it was near an exit, whilst being against a wall, so she could see the entire room, and its inhabitants.

"Good evening, little master!" Ghost heard Butterbur, the inn keeper say, and she sat up straighter at once. Her eyes scanned the room, until Ghost saw Butterbur leaning forward to look at the four young hobbits dripping rain water over his floors.

Ghost watched them, as they had taken off their cloaks placing them in front of the fire to dry, and then sat down at an empty table. The tavern was quite full this night than other nights, but Ghost still had a direct line towards her charges. She knew _he_ was here too. She could feel his presence as if it were a tangible thing in the room.

Yet she wasn't sure if he knew _she_ were here. Ghost shook her head. She could not afford to let him distract her, so she banished all thoughts of him from her head, and focused on the halflings. There were only three at the table now, the youngest among them had gone to the bar, and began to chat animatedly to the men sat around him.

The one she knew as Frodo seemed to notice that he was being watched.

"Excuse me," He called to Butterbur, who walked over to the table immediately, eager to make a customer happy. "That man in the corner? Who is he?"

Butterbur looked over at the man, who sat with his feet up on a stool in front of him, his face in shadow, only coming into view when the burning weed in his pipe lit his face up.

"He's one of them Rangers. Dangerous folk they are. What his real name is, I don't know, but around here, we call him Strider," Butterbur revealed. Ghost smiled. 'Strider'? Ghost wondered how much time they spent deciding on that name. "But you know, he isn't the only Ranger here tonight. Rare, that is, that two Rangers are staying in the same place. Rangers are solitary people, always travelling alone."

"Who is the other?" Frodo asked.

"They call her Ghost. A lady Ranger. The only one, I hear. But just because she's a woman, don't mean she's weaker than those men. No one would threaten Ghost. Got a rep for taking no prisoners, if you know what I mean. Wouldn't want to be one her bad side, that's for sure."

"A lady Ranger?" The slightly fatter hobbit asked, and she saw the hint of excitement in his features, when only moments ago, there had been nothing but worry and suspicion in them.

"Yes, but make no mistake, Ghost is not a lady you want fighting against you. Mark my words. She's sat three tables away from you. Keep an eye on her. She'll slip out of sight if you don't."

She held back a laugh at Butterbur's words, until something made her sit straighter in her chair.

"Baggins? Of course, I know a Baggins! He's over there! Frodo Baggins!" The youngest said, pointing and gesturing at Frodo, who had jumped out of his seat, and was maneuvering himself through the thick flesh wall.

Ghost stiffened in her seat, as she watched Frodo pull on her cousin's sleeve, trying to get him to stop talking, and then she straightened up in alarm, as Frodo fell backwards and the One Ring flew up into the air, falling and landing on the Hobbit's finger, causing him to disappear.

The commotion caused by 'Mr. Underhill's' sudden disappearance, allowed Strider to roughly grab the Hobbit by his collar and drag him away. It also allowed Ghost to stalk after them unseen, and unheard.

Strider pushed Frodo into the Hobbit's room, and Ghost crept forward, her light footsteps remaining unheard by the other Ranger's keen hearing.

"What do you want?" Frodo asked.

"A little more caution from you...that is no trinket you carry." Strider replied.

Ghost could hear his footsteps around the room, probably putting out candles, trying to immerse the room in a bit more shadow to conceal them.

"I carry nothing."

"Indeed. I can usually avoid being seen if I wish, but to disappear entirely...that is a rare gift." Strider replied.

Ghost could picture him, pulling back his hood dramatically then, revealing his tired, but still handsome face to the young Hobbit.

"Who are you?" The Hobbit demanded.

"Are you frightened?"

"Yes."

Ghost heard footsteps coming towards where she was standing, so she walked towards the source of the noise, finding three Hobbits, two of them armed with a candlestick and the other with a chair.

"Who are you?" The fatter Hobbit asked.

"They call me Ghost. You'd do well to not question me, Master Hobbit. I have a blade, and you do not. If you want to help your friend, step behind me and say nothing." Ghost instructed him, grabbing the hilt of her sword, and pulling it out of its sheath. The Hobbit's stared in wonder at the lady Ranger, who pushed them behind her, and crept towards the door, turning the door knob slowly...building the tension for everyone involved.

And then, with a sudden swift kick, Ghost burst through the door, her sword raised, a hidden grin on her face.

"Let him go, or I'll have you, Longshanks!" The Hobbit snarled.

Ghost and Strider both turned to look at the Hobbit, who had raised his fist in front of his face, ready to attack. Then they exchanged a glance of amusement.

"You have a stout heart, little Hobbit, but that alone won't save you...you can no longer wait for the Wizard, Frodo. They are coming." Strider said.

"Collect your belongings, young ones. I have a room in the inn opposite. We shall wait there until dawn. Then we must make haste." Ghost instructed, but when they didn't move, she gave them each a hard glance, and they remembered what Butterbur had said about getting on her wrong side, so quickly bustled around the room, collecting their belongings.

Ghost knew that Frodo's slip with the ring could cost them, but with Strider's help, Ghost felt more at ease with the mission that was set by her old friend.


	2. Into The Wild

_"~ ~" - Large chunks of Elvish. Couldn't find a good Elvish translator._

_* * Visions/Dreams_

_Chapter Two, Into The Wild._

Ghost sat across from Strider, her eyes felt heavy. She had not slept for three days, but she could not let the Hobbits out of her sight. Nor did she want them to feel uncomfortable. She knew they felt more uneasy with Strider around them, and that knowing she was there made them feel slightly safer.

Yet Ghost didn't know why. Surely, with what Butterbur had told them, they would feel more at ease with Strider, knowing that she was more than a little too happy to run someone through with her blade.

Frodo wasn't asleep. He stood by Ghost's chair, looking out of the window, along with Strider. All three of them watched as the Dark Riders burst through the door to the Prancing Pony, and listened to the shrill screams of the angered cursed Kings moments later when they discovered they had just slaughtered pillows, not Hobbits.

"What are they?" Frodo asked.

"They were once men." Ghost told him, in a quiet voice.

Strider looked at his old love, noticing how tired she looked, and feeling responsible for the haunted look in her eyes.

"Great Kings of men. Then Sauron the deciever gave to them Nine Rings of Power." Strider continued.

"Blinded by their greed they took them without question, one by one falling into darkness and now they are slaves to his will," Ghost finished, looking at Strider, noting the concern in his eyes, and then sat up straighter, trying to make herself look less exhausted. "They are the Nazgul, Ringwraiths, neither living or dead."

"At all times they feel the presence of the ring...drawn to the power of the one...they will never stop hunting you." Strider told them, taking his eyes of Ghost, and placing them on the Hobbits.

"Go to sleep, Frodo. We will wake you at dawn." Ghost urged him, ushering him over to the bed. He climbed in, and closed his eyes, but was only half-asleep. Ghost was too tired to notice, and Strider was too occupied by his lost lover to care.

"You should sleep too, _mela_." Strider said, softly.

Ghost shook her head.

"I cannot sleep."

"You look like you haven't slept for days. Get some rest,_ Elbereth_."

"I will not."

"But, why, my lady?"

"Because, _Estel, _I am afraid that if I close my eyes, you'll leave." She whispered.

"_Elbereth, vanimelda, _I cannot leave." He replied.

Ghost lifted her eyes to meet his.

"~_You left before, my love, it has been four years since we last traveled together. Yet, that is not why I am here now. The Hobbits are in my care, Estel. No harm must come to them~" _Ghost said.

"They'll get hurt if you do not sleep, _mela._ To protect them, you need to be alert. You can not be alert, if you are fighting against sleep." Strider argued. Ghost knew he had won this verbal battle, and rose from her chair.

"As you wish, _mela._ In case you do try to run, take heed of this warning. I will hunt you down, and relieve your shoulder of the weight its been carrying all these years."

Strider chuckled, as his love laid herself out on the floor, using her bag as a pillow, and instantly fell asleep.

He didn't realise that Frodo had heard their exchange, and had fallen asleep dreaming of them.

Ghost had managed to buy a skinny pony to hold their supplies from an old man, who looked in need of a very long bath, and some mint for his breath.

Sam instantly took a shine to the pony, naming him Bill, and insisting on leading him, making him the last in the company. Strider and Ghost were up in front, discussing routes and making plans.

"Where are you taking us?" Frodo asked, having to near enough shout, because the Hobbits were lagging behind.

"Into the wild." Strider replied.

Ghost feels the Hobbits unease.

"How do we know Strider and Ghost are friends of Gandalf?" Merry asked, whispering to Frodo.

"We have no choice but to trust them." Frodo replied, making her smile.

"But where are they leading us?" Sam asked.

"To Rivendell, Master Gamgee!" Ghost answered, without turning around. "To the House of Elrond."

Strider shoots her an amused smile, after he turns his head to look at Sam. Ghost turns her head too and sees he looks very thrilled.

"Did you hear that, Bill? We're going to see the Elves!" He said, excitedly.

Strider and Ghost lead them on, crossing the Midgewater Moors, when suddenly the Hobbits stop and start to unstrap the knapsacks.

"Gentleman, we do not stop until nightfall." Strider tells them.

"But what about breakfast?" Pippin asks.

"You've already had it."

"We've had one, yes...but what about Second Breakfast?" Pippin asked.

Strider stares blankly at Pippin, and then looks at Ghost for help.

"I have a feeling that Strider doesn't know about Second Breakfast, Master Pippin." She says, laughing at the confusion on Strider's face.

"What about Elvenses, Luncheon, Afternoon Tea, dinner...he knows about them, doesn't he?" Pippin asked her, a slight desperation marred his expression. The poor Hobbit couldn't understand that Rangers would not need so many meals in one day.

"I wouldn't count on it, young one. Strider is a little rusty when it comes to his knowledge on Hobbit dietary habits." She laughed again.

Strider and the Hobbits were mesmerized by the tinkling laugh Ghost made; it sounded like the first notes of a beautiful lullaby. Ghost's laugh made Strider's heart swell. It had been a long four years since he had last heard that laugh.

Strider walks away, shaking his head. Ghost walks towards the Hobbits, helping Sam replace a knapsack back onto Bill's back. She saw the apple fly through the air and caught it before it could hit the pony and startle it. She handed it to Sam.

"You can eat it now, or save it for a time you need it." Ghost said, smiling at him, before taking the lead again, catching another flying apple before it hit her forehead like one had hit Pippin's. Ghost took a bite out of it as she approached Strider, with the Hobbits in tow.

"You're supposed to set an example. Save food for when its necessary." Strider scolded her, with a smile on his face and a playful twinkle in his blue eyes.

"It was necessary. If I didn't eat it now, I may have had to give this delicious apple away to a hungry hobbit who wanted Elvenses." Ghost replied, joking with her loved one.

Strider shakes his head once more, before urging the Hobbits forward.

The company of six, trudge through the rugged countryside, the woman walking in front, her eyes keener than that of any man, her hand always on the hilt of her sword.

Ghost stops, her eyes narrowing, spotting their camp.

"This was once the great Watchtower of Amon Sul. We shall rest here tonight." She said, not turning round to face them.

They reached Amon Sul before the sun disappeared behind her horizon. Upon reaching a small hollow, half way up Weathertop, the Hobbits collapse onto the ground, huddling close together, each of the halflings muddy and dirty.

Strider dropped four swords by their feet.

"These are for you. Keep them close. We're going to have a look around. Stay here." Strider said, moving away, before waiting for Ghost to accompany him.

Ghost turned towards the Hobbits.

"I implore you to think before doing something. Think with your heads, not your stomachs." She said, pulling her cloak above her head once more, then proceeded to follow Strider, as he led her one a scouting mission.

"We'll scout in a circular motion around Weathertop in two arcs. I'll take the outer ring, you stay closer to the Hobbits." Strider said.

"I love it when you order me around." Ghost joked, a playful smile settling on her lips.

"We have no time for fun and games, _mela._ Focus."

"~_Worry less, Estel, otherwise you will start looking your age, my love_~" Ghost grinned at him, before turning away, her right hand gripping the hilt of her sword, the other clenched in a fist, ready to attack anything that came at her. Although, Ghost knew better than to attempt to physically touch a Nazgul. She didn't want to touch Shadow.

She was about to return to the camp and the Hobbits, after scouting for a while, when she saw the fire start on the hollow.

She withdrew her sword, and ran as fast as she could back to the hollow, knowing that any second now she would hear the shrill screams of the Nazgul as they approached the Hobbits.

A second after that thought entered Ghost's mind, she heard them, and as she drew closer, she saw them. There was only five. The sight of the cursed kings of old made the very blood in Ghost's veins run cold, but she did not falter. She climbed Weathertop a few seconds, maybe a few more, after the Black Riders, and saw that Sam had already been slung aside.

Merry and Pippin were all that stood in front of the Dark Kings, and while Ghost admired their bravery for standing up against a very intimidating foe, she ran in front of them, holding up her long sword in front of them.

"Go back to your master, servants of evil." She hissed, lunging at the middle Wraith. Their blades crossed, and despite being still quite weary, Ghost was now full of anger, and used it to her advantage. She fought well, but her weakness was the fact she could not touch them, and it was five against one.

Ghost heard Sam gasp, which made her lose her focus, as she let her eyes fall on him to see if he was hurt. The Nazgul she was fighting flung her as, and she landed heavily on her arm at an awkward angle, and hitting her head hard against a rock. She muffled her cry of pain, and tried to see through the blind spots.

She heard a loud groan of pain, and then three similar shouts.

_Frodo_, she thought.

Ghost pushed herself up with her left arm, which seemed to still be uninjured, and once noticing that Strider had now arrived and was taking care of the enemy, she crawled over to the Ring-Bearer, pushing Sam out of the way to inspect his wound.

"Frodo?" Sam asked.

Ghost hushed him, pulling Frodo's cloak away from the wound, then pushing the collar of his shirt away so she could see the dagger wound directly. It was already turning black, and she knew it was bad.

Strider, after chasing the last Wraith away with fire, threw himself down at her side, moving her hands away.

"Help him, Strider!" Sam cried.

Ghost picked up the blade he was stabbed with, and passed it to Strider, who inspected it.

"He's been stabbed by a Morgul blade." Strider said, tossing the blade away as it disintergrated.

"Do something! Ghost?" Sam looked at her, and Ghost felt her heart swell with the look he gave her. Like she could help. Like she could save Frodo.

"This is beyond my skill to heal. He needs Elvish medicine." Ghost replies, sadly, helping Strider lift Frodo onto his shoulder, and then grabbing her sword from the ground where it dropped, replacing it in its sheath.

Ghost gave each Hobbit that could walk a lit torch for protection, and she took one for herself, running next to Strider with the light so he could hold Frodo more carefully as he led the Hobbits into the forest.

"Hurry." She urged the Hobbits, who tried to run faster without falling.

"We're six days from Rivendell!" Sam shouted. Strider picked up the pace as Frodo groans.

"Hold on, Frodo." He whispered.

"He'll never make it!" Sam yelled.

Ghost watched Frodo's face, which was paling, but with sweat upon his brow. Like he was sick with a fever.

"Gandalf...Gandalf!" Frodo called.

"We must hurry." Ghost said, ignoring the pain in her head. If she hadn't been running on adrenaline at that moment, she was sure she would have collapsed, and fainted, but her worry for the Hobbits and Strider, and her fear for the life of Frodo kept her on her feet, despite the protests from both the head ache and the blinding pain in her arm.

Soon they stop, and Strider gently places Frodo on the ground, and starts a fire going. Ghost keeps a hand on her sword hilt at all times, and sets up the torches around the camp to warn away the cursed kings.

Frodo's condition has worsened. Ghost leaned over him, whispering incantations in Elvish hoping to help him, but his body showed no sign of healing.

"_Lasto Beth nin, tolo Dan na ngalad_." (Hear my voice, come back to the light.) Ghost whispered in the Hobbits ear.

"Is he going to die?" Pippin asked, his usual cheery voice sounding hollow and empty. Frodo's breathing starts to become more shallow and Ghost puts his head in her lap, hushing him.

"No. He is passing into the shadow world. Soon he will become a wraith like them," Strider replied. Ghost could see he was thinking hard about what to do to save the Hobbit.

Ghost remembers the athelas, or Kingsfoil, she has in her knapsack.

"_~Estel, there is athelas in my pack. It could slow the poisoning until we can get aid_~" Ghost told him, not taking her eyes away from the slowly fading Hobbit.

Strider digs around in her bag, finding the weed, instantly placing some in his mouth and chewing it, before placing it on Frodo's wound. Frodo instantly gasped.

"He is fading. We need to get him to my father. We need to get him to Rivendell. Now." Ghost said, standing up, placing Frodo's head on the ground gently.

"How do you suppose to do that, my lady? It's a six day walk to Rivendell." Merry asked her.

"One thing you shall learn about me, Master Brandybuck, is I always have another plan, in case one fails." Ghost replied, before imitating a bird call.

"What are you doing? Those Wraiths are still out there?" Sam snapped at her, from Frodo's side.

The pounding of hooves was heard in the distance, and she knew the others were thinking she had just doomed them all. Strider stared at Ghost with a look of suspicion. He always knew she had several tricks up her sleeve, but what would get them out of this mess now?

The sound of cantering horse drew closer, close enough to hear it blow air out of its nostrils as it moved quickly towards the company.

Just when the Hobbits all thought that Ghost had subjected them to the ends of their brief lives, a dark horse broke through the trees...but it was riderless and beautiful. It didn't instill the fear of death into them, instead it filled them with wonder looking at this wonderful steed.

"Gentlemen, this is Asfaloth. Estel, put Frodo on him, and I'll ride to Rivendell." Ghost said, picking up her pack and attaching it to her old friend's saddle. Strider did as he was told, picking the wounded Hobbit up gently, and lifting him into the saddle, but he stood in his lover's way, so she couldn't get into the saddle herself.

"_Dartho guin Berian...rych le and tolthathon.(Stay with the Hobbits...I'll send horses for you)." _Strider tells her.

Ghost grabs hold of the reins.

"_Hon mabathon. Rochoh ellint im (I'll take him. I'm the faster rider)." _Ghost replied, searching his now green eyes for something. She didn't really know, all she knew was that she was wasting precious time staring into Elessar's enchanting eyes. Strider places his hand over hers, gripping it tightly.

"Andelu I ven (The road is too dangerous)." Strider argued softly.

"_Frodo Fir. Ae anthradon I hir, tur gwaith nin beraitha hon (If I can cross the river, the power of my people will protect him)." _Ghost answered. She was now glad of her mixed race heritage. Being part elf was useful for more than an extended life, keener hearing and eyesight, and being lighter than Men.

"What are they saying?" Pippin asked one of the others, but no one answered him.

Ghost stared deep into her lover's eyes, and took hold of his other hand.

"I do not fear them." She replied.

Ghost knew that her arm was still protesting badly, and her head ached, but she knew that no one in their party could ride faster than she could or use the power of the elves to protect herself and Frodo. Ghost was the only one who could save Frodo now. She can also see how hard it is for Strider to let her go.

But he steps out of the way, and she mounts her horse.

"Elbereth...ride hard, don't look back." Strider instructed her. Ghost stared down at him for a moment, one hand supporting Frodo, the other gripping the reins.

"_Noro Lim, _Asfaloth, _Noro Lim."_ Ghost urges her horse forward, and Asfaloth springs away, bearing Ghost and Frodo into the night.


	3. Flight to the Ford

Ghost pushed Asfaloth harder than she's ever pushed him before. The Mearas horse could sense the urgency in his mistress' mood, and body, so pushed himself to gallop faster.

Ghost sensed four out of the nine Nazgul before she actually saw them or heard them. She knew she was being followed. Frodo's head bounced up and down, and Ghost worried that she wouldn't make it to the river before he started to pass into the other world.

She guided Asfaloth between trees, darting out of the reach of Wraiths, one even having the nerve to reach out to try and grab Frodo. The female ranger pushed her horse faster.

As Ghost urged the horse forward, out of the pine trees and onto the East Road, Ghost saw two more wraiths gallop down the hillside to join in the hunt. Ghost didn't panic, if she did, all hope would be lost and Frodo would fade faster into the dark oblivion of the Nazgul's world.

The three remaining cursed kings joined the pack, so that Ghost and Frodo were being pursued by Sauron's most trusted evil.

Asfaloth was tiring, Ghost knew this, but they could not afford to slow.

"_Noro lim,_ Asfaloth, _noro lim_." She whispered to the horse, and the beast, though tired, quickened for its mistress, feeling her urgency.

Ghost's half-elvish hearing picked up the trickling of water, and almost sighed audibly. Then her eyes welcomed the vision of the Ford of Bruinen. Without hesitation, Asfaloth thundered across the shallow waters of the river. Ghost turned her head, witnessing the halt of the nine Nazgul, who were clearly nervous of the water. When the horse reached the other side, the ranger turned the horse around and faced the Black Riders defiantly.

"Give up the Halfling, she-elf!" The Witch King ordered.

Ghost drew her sword, and holds it threateningly, her free hand gripping Frodo to keep his limp body steady in the saddle.

"If you want him, come and claim him." She yelled.

The Witch Kings screeched angrily, and all nine drew their swords, before he led the other Ringwraiths into the Ford. The water starts flowing faster, Ghost's ears picked up the rumbling in the distance.

"_Nin o Chitaeglir, lasto Beth daer. Rimmo nin Bruinen Dan in Ulear_!" Ghost chanted an old Elvish incantation that she'd been taught many years ago. It was to be used as protection and for defense purposes.

Ghost repeated the incantation once more, when the ground started to tremble and a might roar filled the air. A huge torrent of water flooded down the river towards the ford. The foaming water appeared to take the shape of many white steeds charging towards the Wraiths, who screamed as they were swallowed up in the deluge. Their piercing shrieks were drowned out in the river as they were swept away.

But before Ghost could sigh in relief, she heard Frodo groan in pain.

"No, no...Frodo," Ghost choked, grief threatening to take control over her. She pulled Frodo out of the saddle, and gently laid his body on the ground, but held him in her arms. "Frodo, don't give in... not now!"

Ghost could feel the life slipping away from the young Hobbit, and then made a quick decision.

"What grace is given me, let it pass to him. Let him be spared. ~_I give up the immortal life of my people, let him be spared~"_ Ghost whispered, and felt the change within herself. She was half-elf, and had the choice whether to live her immortal life with the elves or an extended life with the Dunedain. Frodo had made the choice even easier for her.

Frodo was being healed by Lord Elrond and Gandalf, whom she was surprised to see upon her arrival, in a private chamber somewhere in Imladris, and Ghost was quickly whisked away by some elven handmaidens to her own chambers to be healed, washed, dressed in her elven finery and be made more presentable and proper. Ghost didn't mind wearing the dresses she had to wear when she was home, especially since it made her _ada_ happy and Strider seemed to enjoy them as well.

The handmaidens washed her, being careful of her injuries, pulled a brush through her long, dark trusses, tutting at all the knots, and plaited it so it was out of her face. Then they forced her into the gown they had chosen; it was made of the finest elven silk, and was a rich purple in colour. It had long sleeves and a flowing train, and every time she moved it took a couple of moments for the dress to then follow her. It did look beautiful on her. The maids made sure Ghost knew that, before they placed the silver circlet on top of her head.

Ghost was of the royal Elvish bloodline, and was an Elvish princess, though some thought due to her real father and his Dunedain blood that she should not be able to call herself royalty. Sometimes she herself thought that she should not be treated as higher than most elves, but _ada, _or Lord Elrond as he is known to most others but his children, refused to let her become a simple half-elf.

Ghost then had naught to do, but wait for the others, who could have only be four days behind her and Frodo. She had sent scouts out with the Lord Elrond's permission, and she awaited news. Ghost knew that Strider and the three Hobbits were safe. She had led the Nazgul away from them, when she had taken Frodo. That meant they were safe. Yet Ghost knew she would not cease her fretting until she had witnessed their arrival, and seen to them herself.

Four days had passed, and Ghost had spent every waking moment either helping her father tend to Frodo, in council with Gandalf, spending time with her cousins, honing her skills with a bow and a blade, and reading. That was what Ghost was doing, when one of the elf stewards came to find her.

"My Lady?"

Ghost looked up from her book, raising her eyes to meet the nervous elf's.

"Yes?"

"Lord Estel, and the three halflings have just crossed the Ford. Lord Elrond wishes for you to be there to greet them."

Ghost handed him her book, and rose from the grass she had been sitting on, and dusted off her gown, before slowly making her way towards the gates. She knew she'd have to wait a little while, so she let her mind wander as she stood. She thought of the last moment she'd spent in Imladris before she and Strider had left the last time before traveling once more. She and her twin cousins had been in a three day contest with each other, trying to decide which out of the three had the greatest ability with a bow. Eventually Ghost had won, much to the bitter disappointment of the twins and the great amusement of her lover.

"Ghost!" A voice pulled her out of her memories.

Ghost's head snapped up, and a smile spread on her face as she spotted three weary Hobbits running towards her. She held her arms out, and braced herself for the impact as all three solid bodies collided with her.

She hugged them close to her, kissing each of their heads in turn. Then Ghost knelt down and checked the three for injuries. There was a lot of grabbing faces, patting of arms, legs, stomachs and backs, and complaints from the three Hobbits.

"No harm has befallen the halflings, _Elbereth." _Strider said, making Ghost stop her assessment with his words.

"I was just checking, _Estel. _Now, my dear ones, these _elleths _are going to take you to your rooms, get you cleaned up and then you will rest," Ghost said, and when the Hobbits made no sign of following the female elves that waited to show them to their rooms, she laughed and gently nudged them in the right direction. "Go on! Off with you!"

Sam, Pippin and Merry nodded, and she could see how tired they were. They trudged behind the hand maidens wordlessly, too tired to argue or talk. Ghost watched them leave before turning round to finally give Strider some attention.

"I'm waiting on you. I've had a bath drawn in our quarters. _Ada _doesn't acquire your presence just yet, so you are to rest, and regain your strength. You look tired, _mela." _Ghost said, a softness in her expression that was usually only reserved for this man.

Strider walked towards her, a glint of something in his eyes that Ghost couldn't decipher until his lips were already against hers. His kiss was a relieved one. It told Ghost how he had worried about her when she had gone from him, and how happy he was now that she was back in his sight. Ghost was the one who pulled away, to gaze up at him, as his arms encircled her thin waist. His eyes also betrayed his true emotions; he looked to be full of relief at seeing her safe.

"I think I would be glad to have some rest."

Ghost smiled, taking Strider's hand, and led him back to their rooms. Ghost was happier now that Strider was with her. She had worried about him too, whether he was safe, whether or not she'd successfully gotten rid of the Wraiths for the time being and thus allowing her friends and lover safe passage through the wilderness.

When they entered their room, Ghost helped Strider remove his weapons and then clothing before ushering him over to the bath. She took his ranger clothes away to be washed and dried, ready for him to wear when they eventually left, before she returned to him, handing him a cloth to dry himself with, while she set out some clothes for him to sleep in.

"_Elbereth, _you should not be waiting on me like a common hand-maiden." Strider scolded.

"That may be true, but, in spite of all my thoughts that a woman is no less capable than a man, it is a woman's duty to look after her love, just as it is his to look after her. In the past, I have tended to your wounds and you have tended to mine, and we have protected each other in war. Well this is my way of looking after you when there is not threat of death and danger." Ghost replied, watching him dress.

"All of that is true, but I also think that you do not want anyone else to tend to me." Strider remarked, making Ghost laugh.

"_Mela, _you know me so well. Get some rest, _Estel_, I have to make sure the Hobbits are settled, then I must go to council with _ada_ and Gandalf. Do not leave this room until at least dawn. You _need_ to rest." Ghost said, stressing the word 'need' so he could attempt to comprehend her words.

"Have you slept since you arrived? You still look as tired as you did four days ago." Strider questioned, standing in front of Ghost, so close that Ghost had to raise her head slightly so she could stare back at him.

"I rested well enough."

"You're lying." Strider replied.

"I did not sleep the first day, nor the day after, but I slept two hours the next day and four yesterday. It would be a fool's mission to have tried for more when my mind was so troubled. I do not doubt that tonight will be a different matter, and that I'll be able to sleep better than I have for four years, since I now have no need to worry for your safety or that of the halflings'," Ghost said, finally starting to feel weary. "But now, I need to speak with Lord Elrond and Gandalf, then I will return and rest with you."

"Do you swear it?"

"I swear I'll return to sleep." She answered without hesitation, knowing that he would not sleep unless she agreed, and then they would quarrel. And Ghost didn't have the heart to quarrel with him when he looked at her with such concern and worry in his blue eyes. The lady ranger lifted her hand and rested it on the man's cheek, and gazed at him with tired, but love filled eyes.

"Rest, for soon you will need your strength, as will many." Ghost said, her voice taking on an omniscient tone, as though she had seen something but had not the heart to say.

"_Elbereth, _what have you seen?" Strider asked, a knowing look crossing his face. He knew all too well that the woman had gifts just like her mother, and grandmother. Coming from a royal elvish line, he knew she was blessed with gifts that most elves did not possess.

"I saw riders of different races from different domains riding towards Imladris. And then a council. A quest will be taken by ten beings, though I am not sure who they are to be, except two. Gandalf will be part of the company, as will you, _mela,"_ Ghost answered, taking his hands into hers, tracing patterns across the backs, trying to calm herself rather than him. "Too long have you wondered about your fate, your destiny...this journey will answer all of the questions that have remained unanswered for all of these years."

A knock came at the door before Strider could make a reply to Ghost, and a head poked through the door. Elrohir, her cousin, smirked at the closeness of the two, but neither moved.

"_Ada _is waiting on you, _Elbereth_, let your lover go and don't make him wait any longer!" The younger twin teased his cousin, and sister, unable to hold back his laughter at her withering glare. He shook his head, knowing she was waiting for him to leave their room so she could kiss her beloved goodbye before following him to where their father waited. He rolled his eyes, and moved his head so he could close the door, but the pair both knew he had not moved far from the door.

"_Estel, _rest now. I will honor my promise." Ghost told him, kissing his lips softly, before turning and walking out of the room. Elrohir was exactly where they had expected, and he smirked when he saw Ghost leave her room reluctantly._  
_

Yet he did not say more than he already had. Elrohir held out his arm to Ghost, and she smiled as she looped her own through his.

"Now, sister, tell me of this vision you had." He smiled at her, with a knowing look.

Ghost's smile widened, thankful for this family, one that she had once not known she had, that knew her so well, before she revealed to her older 'brother' what she had told her lover.


	4. The Evenstar and The Council of Elrond

(A/N I forgot to mention at the beginning of this story that Arwen is not in this story. Ghost has the name Evenstar in this, and is Elrond's niece, though she calls him father sometimes...anyway on to the story...)

The next three days were ones that Ghost spent with Strider. They went for walks hand in hand through the grounds of Rivendell, they trained together, they laughed more than they had in four years, and sometimes they just stayed in their rooms, lying on a chaise lounge, simply happy to just lay facing each other, eyes closed in pure bliss at not being chased, or wounded, or worried about the other for the time being.

And there were the moments Ghost would spend with the four hobbits that were conscious in Rivendell. Her old friend Bilbo, Frodo's uncle, had sought her out after she'd arrived, and they'd spent a lot of time together since then. And now with Merry, Pippin and Sam as well, she was enraptured by the stories of their simple lives back in the Shire; how Sam was a simple gardener, how both Merry and Pippin didn't really work but just got into mischief, and how Bilbo had grown tired of the simple life there and had longed to travel once more to find adventure. He'd hoped to travel to Erebor under the Lonely Mountains and visit some of his dwarf friends from his adventure there 60 years ago.

She had listened to his tales of gold and jewels, of trolls and dragons, and knew that she had faced things just as terrible in her lifetime.

A couple days later, while she redressed Frodo's wound for her _ada, _Gandalf came and sat down on the chair beside Frodo's bed. Ghost finished the knot she was tying and then looked at the old wizard in confusion.

"_Mithrandir_, I have only just gotten Sam to leave his side once more! Surely you are not taking shifts?" Ghost questioned.

"No, but I have a good feeling, my dear, that Master Baggins will wake today." Gandalf answered, a twinkle in his eye as he looked at the unconscious hobbit.

And just like that, any lingering anxiety Ghost had over the halfling vanished. Despite her father's abilities as a healer, she had had a nagging thought in the back of her mind that sneered at her, telling her she had not gotten Frodo to Imladris quick enough to save the hobbit's life. She assumed that it was her self-deprecating nature, that her own mind was telling her that she was not good enough, that she had put to much faith in her abilities as an elf and ranger, and that had led ultimately to Frodo's demise.

"Have you given this bit of news to Lord Elrond, _Mithrandir?_" Ghost asked as she smiled at him.

"No. Would you, my dear? Your uncle would most likely want to welcome Frodo to Rivendell himself."

Ghost nodded, and strode out of the room. She didn't stroll as she normally would have while performing an errand that wasn't urgent. Ghost found herself almost rushing to her '_ada__'_ in his chambers, a lightness in her heart at the good news which made her run.

She hesitated at her uncle's door, and knocked twice.

"_~Enter, Elbereth~." _Lord Elrond called in Elvish. Ghost was still taken aback sometimes when he knew it was her without seeing her.

She opened the door and walked towards him, a serene smile on her face._  
_

"_Ada, Mithrandir_ says the halfling will wake soon."

Elrond looked up from some parchment he had been reading, and examined the half-elven maiden he had taken in so many years ago. With her beauty, she truly deserved the name _Elbereth_ as he had seen no other who had born such a likeness to the Lady of the Stars. The only difference, Elrond mused, was the dark hair that she had inherited from her mortal father.

"For that news I am eternally grateful." He smiled.

"Grateful? _Ada, _why are you grateful?" Ghost asked, confusion muddling her mind.

"I am grateful for it has brought a smile to your face. I have not seen your smile in a long time by the reckoning of Men," Elrond answered, as he walked towards her and rested a hand on her cheek. "I have a task for you to complete for me."

"Of course, _ada._"

_"_Go summon the elf-maids and make sure all the spare rooms are readied for the arrival of our guests today."

Ghost nodded, and once more turned and left to complete her task.

She had spent her morning, overseeing the work the _elleths _did, making sure the rooms were perfect. Frodo was in fact awake, and walking around Rivendell with Sam, Merry, Pippin and Bilbo. When she was finished, she found herself back in her uncle's rooms, discussing Frodo with her uncle and _Mithrandir _as they all watched him and Sam from the balcony overlooking Imladris.

"His strength returns." Elrond said, his eyes on the two hobbits as they walked away.

"That wound will never fully heal. He will carry it the rest of his life." Gandalf said, his voice twinged in sadness. He had not expected the hobbit to get hurt when he gave this task to him, especially not by a Ringwraith.

"And yet to have come so far still bearing the Ring Frodo has shown extraordinary resilience to its evil." Ghost said, her own eyes following her uncle as he walked away from Gandalf, across the room.

"It is a burden he should never have had to bear," Gandalf snapped, not at Ghost, but at the predicament that Frodo had been put in. The poor hobbit should never have had to know such evil. He continued in a softer voice. "We can ask no more of Frodo."

"Gandalf, the enemy is moving. Sauron's forces are massing in the East. His Eye is fixed on Rivendell. And Saruman, you tell me, has betrayed us. Our list of allies grows thin." Elrond said.

Ghost feels a weight settle in her chest as the gravity of the situation sinks in.

"His treachery runs deeper than you know," Gandalf replies in a quieted voice. Ghost's eyes lapse onto the old wizard, and he noticed the focused look in them. "By foul craft, Saruman has crossed Orcs with Goblin-men. He is breeding an army in the caverns of Isengard. An army that can move in sunlight and cover great distance at speed. Saruman is coming for the Ring."

Ghost closed her eyes, and let out a breath she had not realised she was holding, and then opened them again, once she had absorbed the information.

"This evil cannot be concealed by the power of the Elves. We do not have the strength to fight both Mordor and Isengard!" Her uncle insisted, and all he said was true. Ghost knew this. The time of the Elves was almost over. Already many had been sailing into the West, to the Undying Lands. The Elves could not fight Mordor and Isengard and win. And Gandalf knew this to be true as well. Ghost could see that, as he walked away, turning his back on Elrond. "Gandalf...the Ring cannot stay here."

That made the old wizard pause. Ghost, who still stood at the balcony, turned back to look at Rivendell in all its peaceful glory. She was the first to see him. The male rider. Not one of the Elven sentry riders, but a Man. She knew that he was someone of importance by the good quality cloak he wore, and the shield he bore on his back. She recognised the shield from a memory.

"_Ada, _the Steward Prince of Gondor has arrived." Ghost announced, though she knew Gandalf had seen him. She stood there, and watched him dismount and a stable boy took the reins of his horse, and an _elleth _gestured for him to follow her.

Elrond and Gandalf continued to speak, but Ghost could no longer hear, her eyes watching the gates. Not too long after the Man's arrival, three elves from Mirkwood rode through the gate. That was when Ghost moved for an old friend had come and she wished to be the one to welcome him. Ghost hurried down stairs and through corridors until she made it to the courtyard where the elves were getting their horses seen to.

"_Mellon nin! Mellon nin Legolas!"_ She grinned, as the blonde prince turned and smiled at her, his blue eyes twinkling at the sight of his friend.

"_Elbereth! ~It has been a couple decades since I saw you last, friend~," _Legolas said, as she stopped in front of him. He took her hand and kissed it quickly, before lowering his head in a bow, as she lowered hers and her body in a curtsy. "~_Time has changed you, friend~_."_  
_

_"~I have aged since last you saw me, but I believe that my Elvish blood has halted my aging now~. _Come, Legolas, I will show you and your men to your rooms. You must be weary from your journey."

The night had begun to show by the time Ghost had finished ushering guests to rooms, and once she was free from this, she decided to hunt down her beloved. First she looked in their rooms and finding them empty, she searched the grounds until she remembered that he liked to read in the quiet by the wall painting of the Fall of Sauron.

She made her way there, spying the Gondorian stepping up to broken blade of Elendil that was on display in this room.

"The shards of Narsil," He muttered to himself, not aware of any presences watching him. He lifted the blade from its cloth-covered plinth and eyes it with wonderment. "The blade that cut the Ring from Sauron's hand. It's still sharp."

Ghost eyed the drop of blood on the Man's finger, before focusing on him again. He had noticed, finally, eyes watching him, but did not seem to see her.

"But no more than a broken heirloom." The Steward Prince dropped the blade back onto the plinth, but it fell with a loud clatter to the ground. He had already begun to walk away, but the noise made him pause, but he did not turn and retrieve the artifact from the ground and return it to its resting place. He kept walking.

She knew she had found Strider then as she heard light footsteps, not lighter than an Elf's however, move to the center of the room, until she saw him. He picked the broken blade up, and returned it to its place, before stepping back, a hand on his chest. Ghost slowly walked into the room, until she stood just a little bit behind him.

"Why do you fear the past? You are Isildur's heir, not Isildur himself. You are not bound to his fate." Ghost said, her voice soft, but reverent as she spoke to him. She knew he doubted himself, like she did, but he had no reason, but the faults of his ancestor, to have such weak thoughts about himself.

"The same blood flows in my veins," Strider replied, stepping back a step, before turning to look at her. "The same weakness."

Ghost stepped forward, so the two were a couple of inches away.

"Your time will come. You will face the same evil. And you will defeat it," Ghost said, her voice even, her eyes wide so that he would read the truth in them. She believed that he was destined to beat the darkness that was spreading slowly, like poison, across this land. She continued her attempt at getting him to believe in Elvish. "_A si i-duath u-orthor_..._u or le a u or nin (The shadow does not hold sway yet...not over you...not over me)_."

He remained silent as she took his hand, and led him away, to a secluded bridge over a gently rolling stream, far out of sight of anyone. They stand together in the middle, his hands holding hers between their bodies as they stare into the other's eyes.

"_Renech I lu I erui governnem (Do you remember when we first met)?" _Ghost asked him.

"_Nauthannim I ned ol reniannen (I thought I had strayed into a dream)." _Strider answered, one hand letting go of hers to stroke the bare skin of her arm.

"_Gwenin in enniath (long years have passed_)..." Ghost paused, her free hand gently touching the grey at Strider's temple. "_u-arnech in naeth I se celich (you did not have the cares you carry now)," _Ghost looked up into his eyes once more. "_Renech I Beth I pennen (Do you remember what I told you)?"_

Strider looked down at the necklace around Ghost's neck. She wore it always. It was the Evenstar as that was her name in the common tongue. _Elbereth Undomiel _translated to Alianor Evenstar in the language of Men. Ghost was just a name she used in Bree. It was not her true name. Alianor Evenstar was the name she answered to. Strider ran his fingers down it, before looking back up at her.

"You said you'd bind yourself to me forsaking the immortal life of your people." He said quietly.

"And to that I hold. I would rather share one life with you than face all the ages of this world alone," Alianor whispered adamantly, staring into his eyes as she spoke, then gripping his hand tightly, before letting it go. Strider looked down at his hand, and opened it to gaze upon the Evenstar. "I choose a mortal life."

"You cannot give me this." Strider replied.

"It is mine to give to whom I will, like my heart." Alianor replied, closing Strider's fingers around the jewel.

Alianor leaned slowly forward, pressing her lips softly against his, happy to be in this small piece of paradise with him, before the peace was ruined by the talks of war they would face the next day.

The next day, Alianor and Strider went to Lord Elrond's council together, though were separated as she had to sit on her uncle's right side. Her gaze would wander from the strangers and friends who had been gathered here and land upon Strider quite often.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old...you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom," Lord Elrond said, standing just in front of his seat at the head of the semi-circle of different races that listened to him intently. He turned to look at Frodo. "Bring forth the ring, Frodo."

Frodo rose from his seat, and placed the Ring slowly onto a stone table in the middle. Alianor's eyes shifted from person to person, gauging their reaction to the sight of the ring. There was the initial gasps, and then quiet words exchanged between races, but the reaction that sent a wave of unease through her was the Gondorian's.

"So it is true." He whispered, his eyes not leaving it. Alianor exchanged a glance with Strider, who looked as wary as she did.

"The doom of Man." Someone muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

"It is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor," The Steward Prince said, rising from his seat, and walking a couple of paces, so he could look at those there while he spoke. "Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him."

"Son of Denethor, you cannot wield the weapon of the Dark Lord. No Man, Elf, Dwarf or Wizard can bend this weapon to their own will. To think so is the greatest folly." Alianor said, her eyes as hard as her voice.

"My lady is right. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master." Strider added, defending his beloved as he saw the anger on the Man's face.

"And what would a Ranger and an elf-maiden know of this matter?" Boromir demanded.

"This is no mere Ranger," Legolas said, standing as he fixed his eyes on the Steward Prince. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. And she is Lady Alianor Evenstar, of Imladris, Lothlorien and the North. You owe them your allegiance."

"Aragorn. This is Isildur's heir?" Boromir questioned as he looked upon Aragorn, shock coloring his face, and taking over his mind. He turned his gaze towards the lady, who looked upon him with cold eyes. Odd feelings went through him as he looked into her green eyes, and the realisation that she was the most beautiful creature he had seen.

"And heir to the throne of Gondor." Alianor looked around to see who was surprised, but few were, but Boromir and Frodo. Frodo must have sensed someone's eyes on him, because he looked around and caught Alianor, who smiled slightly at him. He smiled back, and saw that when the lady's eyes returned to Boromir, a looked of distrust and apprehension filled them.

"_Havo dad, _Legolas (sit down)." Aragorn requested his old friend.

Boromir looked at Aragorn with bitter distaste, before turning to Legolas with the same withering look.

"Gondor has no king," He said, before glaring once again at Aragorn while he returned to his seat. "Gondor needs no king."

Alianor stood this time, a look of fury plain for all to see on her face, turning her beauty dark and causing Boromir to pale under her angry gaze. She stepped towards the Gondorian, who did not turn his eyes away from the maiden though he wished he could, but even in anger, she had him under some spell.

_"All that is gold does not glitter;_

_Not all those who wander are lost;_

_The old that is strong does not wither;_

_Deep roots are not reached by the frost._

_From the ashes a fire shall be woken;_

_A light from the shadows shall spring;_

_Renewed shall be blade that was broken;_

_The crownless again shall be king._

__I know not of my own fate, but I know that of my lord. It is his fate to reclaim the throne of Gondor, to unite the world of Men, to return hope to all. It is not your place, Boromir, son of Denethor, Steward Prince of Gondor, to deny that of which has been foretold long before your cries blessed the halls of Minas Arnor."

"Alianor, _a'maelamin, havo dad." _Aragorn asked her, his warm eyes upon hers were enough to quench her anger for now, and she, though it was very reluctant, turned round and sat down in her seat, a facade of pure indifference on her face.

"Aragorn and Lady Alianor are right. We cannot use it." Gandalf said, casting a dark look at the Steward's son.

Alianor's eyes were brought once more to her uncle as he rose once more from his seat, and got the council's attention.

"You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed."

"What are we waiting for?" Gimli, son of Gloin, asked, and climbed to his feet with an axe in his hand, and rushed at the Ring, swinging the axe down onto it, before being blasted onto his back by an unseen force. Alianor's attention was brought to Frodo as she heard his gasp of pain, and saw him holding his head as though it ached. Gandalf also noticed this, though neither Wizard nor Ranger said a word, simply exchanged a worried glance. The other dwarves hurried to get Gimli to his feet.

Pieces of the dwarf's axe were scattered around the Ring.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom...only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this." Lord Elrond announced, his words making all fall silent. A dark mood seemed to take everyone.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The Great Eye is ever-watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire, and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly." Boromir spoke quietly. The whole time Alianor watched Frodo's face, watching as fear flitted in his eyes at the words of the Steward Prince.

Legolas jumped to his feet once more, glaring at the Gondorian.

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed." Legolas said loudly.

"And I suppose you think you are the one to do it!" Gimli snarled at the Elven Prince.

"And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?" Boromir demanded as he too rose to stand.

The dwarf jumped to his feet quickly, glaring up at Legolas.

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" He said.

That caused the elves and the dwarves to get into a heated argument. Legolas held his arm out to stop the elves from getting past him. Soon Gandalf and the Men rose and joined in the argument, but Aragorn, Alianor, Elrond and Frodo remained seated.

Alianor and Aragorn exchanged weary glances, before Frodo's voice drew her attention.

"I will take it!" Tears filled Alianor's eyes with his words, and she looked at him, as he stared at the bickering rabble who had yet to hear him.

"I will take it!" Frodo repeated, and this time they heard. All turned to face the young hobbit, who looked up at them with as much bravery as she had seen in her lifetime.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though I do not know the way." Frodo said, his voice getting quieter as he didn't have to raise his voice to be hard any longer.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins," Gandalf said, walking towards him, before standing behind him and resting his hand on the halflings shoulder. "As long as it is yours to bear."

Alianor's heart thumped loudly in her chest as Aragorn rose to his feet.

"If by my life or death I can protect you...I will," He said, then quickly strode towards Frodo and knelt before him. "You have my sword."

"And you have my bow." Legolas said, also moving to stand behind Frodo.

"And my ax." Gimli added, stepping forward.

Alianor watched with unease as the Steward Prince of Gondor stepped forward.

"You carry the fates of us all, little one," He said, directing this at Frodo. His eyes then rose to looked at the four behind and beside the hobbit before he continued speaking. "If this is indeed the will of the Council...then Gondor will see it done."

A shout came from the direction of a plotted plant that was within ear-shot of the council, and Sam suddenly appeared by Frodo's side.

"Mr Frodo's not going anywhere without me." Sam insisted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No indeed! It is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not." Lord Elrond teased the bashful hobbit.

"Wait! We're coming too!" Alianor put her head into her hands, and sighed as Merry and Pippin ran to stand beside Frodo too. Tears threatened to fall as she looked upon her hobbit friends, all who she thought were too unprepared, too young and too innocent for such a journey as the one they would embark upon. "You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us."

"Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of...mission. Quest. Thing." Pippin said, bringing a small smile to her face as he contradicted his own words.

"Well, that rules you out Pip." Merry said to his best friend, and Pippin gave him a confused glance.

"Nine companions." Lord Elrond said quietly.

Those two words caused Alianor to stand. Being the only female allowed to attend the council, her action brought all the males' attention to her. Lord Elrond looked at her, a knowing look in his eyes, but a frown marred his face.

"_Ada, _it is supposed to be ten. That was my vision," Alianor said to him, before looking at Frodo, and smiling at him, walking round her uncle to kneel at Frodo's feet. Alianor took his small hands into her own, before looking up at him. "Our fates, Frodo, have been bound since _Mithrandir_ charged me with your care. He has not yet released me from my oath, so I follow you until the end, little one. Whatever strength I possess, I shall use to protect you, Ringbearer, until my final breath. You have my word."

Alianor squeezed his hands, before standing and letting them go. She moved and stood beside Aragorn, taking his hand, before looking back at her Uncle, her intentions clear. Elrond frowned, but knew it would be no good to dissuade her. The Valar had a reason for this, and it would come to light before the end. He looked at Aragorn, who looked displeased at his lover's decision, though he too would not dissuade her. Or would not try, without a push from Lord Elrond.

"So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring." Elrond announced.

"Great! Where are we going?" Pippin asked.


	5. The Ring Goes South

The next day they departed, though Alianor was in a sour mood. Her uncle had said something to Aragorn, and he had tried to persuade her to stay in Rivendell, then to sail across the sea to the Undying Lands with the rest of her kin. Neither Elf Lord nor Ranger anticipated just how stubborn Alianor truly was. She had ridden to war many times, had fought against foes three times her size and had suffered many wounds in her lifetime. She had made an oath to Frodo, and in her eyes, that was it. She had no alternative but to follow the hobbit until he chose to leave her protection or she died a valiant death in Frodo's name. She had chosen her path and she would not stray from it.

After trekking for days, they stopped to rest on the Eregion Hills. At dawn, they woke, and Gandalf had them wait, while he decided their path. Sam cooked breakfast, while Boromir trained Merry and Pippin how to properly use their swords. Aragorn smoked his pipe while he watched, sometimes voicing a technique of his own, and Alianor sat beside him, her eyes scanning everything they could, before flickering back to Boromir and the hobbits for a few seconds. They had not spoken since they left Rivendell, apart from trading a few comments with Gandalf as to the direction they should be going in. Aragorn knew that he had hurt her, asking her to leave him, telling her their love was nothing but a dream and trying to give her back the Evenstar. Yet he knew that she would forgive him as she always did, because she knew that he only did it with the belief that she would be better off leaving him behind to make a better life for herself. She would often reply that such a thing did not exist as there was no better life for her than one shared with him.

"Move your feet." Aragorn instructed, bring Alianor's attention back to the scene in front of her.

"Watch the Gondorian's movements. He is predictable, and you'll eventually learn to anticipate his moves." Alianor supplied, much to the chagrin of Boromir.

"Has my lady seen much of war?" Boromir asked, not retaliating to her words, but out of curiosity. Alianor sensed this so bit back any harsh words that desired to leave her mouth, and replied in a softer voice.

"I've fought in many wars, Steward Prince. Wars aren't exactly a grande feast, and though I have gone willingly into them and will do in battles to come, it is not something I would wish upon a friend." As Alianor spoke her eyes flitted towards Merry and Pippin, who were watching her.

"My lady, we want to learn to fight!" Merry said, enthusiastically.

Alianor's smile was sad as she looked directly at the blonde hobbit.

"For protection I hope. I do not wish for you to fight beside us in war, Master Brandybuck." She replied, standing because she could not sit still for too long. She didn't have enough patience at that moment in time.

"But why, milady?" Merry asked, an upset frown on his face as he stared up at the tall, beautiful elf-maiden who he looked up to and loved as one would love an older sister. An affectionate smile replaced the sad one that had marred Alianor's face as she crouched down in front of Merry, so they were at eye level.

"Wars are ugly affairs, little one, and I wish to protect you at least a while longer from the ugliness that taints such a beautiful world. So far your life has been green fields, hobbit holes and pints in The Green Dragon Inn. War takes the most precious thing we have from us, and it would fill my heart with joy for you to hold on to it for as long as you can on this journey." She said, brushing back some of the hair out of his eyes, before stroking his cheek with her thumb.

"What is that, milady?" Pippin asked, confusion clear on both his and Merry's face.

"Innocence, dear one. It is a precious gift given to babes at birth, and we hold on to it, until it is tainted by the dark side of the world. Most of your companions have lost the innocence that they were given as they have seen dark, terrible things and have had to take lives in order to keep theirs. So do not be so eager, my sweet Hobbits, to rush into battles and wars when you do not know what you risk by doing so."

Alianor kissed both of their heads before straightening up, taking a couple steps back, and unsheathing her sword. Both Hobbits looked at her in alarm, causing her to laugh. Merry, Pippin, Boromir and Aragorn all seemed mystified by her twinkling laugh, a sweet sound that sounded so strange as they hadn't heard anything quite like it for days. Boromir, particularly, seemed entranced, as though her laugh had placed him under some temporary spell that ended as her laugh did.

"I am not going to run you through, little ones. I am simply offering you a different type of opponent. Not every foe you come across will be as heavy handed as Boromir. Some will be quicker and lighter on their feet," Alianor smiled, before lunging at Merry, who quickly blocked her attack. "Very good, Merry, but keep your feet a shoulder width apart to keep your balance. Never have your feet close together. Now, Pippin, your weapon should always be ready when you have been engaged in battle. It serves as a ward against an enemy."

Alianor went on coaching the two Hobbits as the two Men looked on, one used to such a display, the other surprised but impressed by the depth of knowledge the woman had. Alianor felt a sense of unease pass through her, so she stopped, returning her sword to its sheath, before bowing to the two Hobbits, who bowed in return.

"Boromir, perhaps you would like to return to your teaching. I must talk to Legolas." Alianor said, before moving over to where Legolas stood.

He didn't turn to the side to formally acknowledge her arrival, but nodded, his eyes still scanning the skies and the lands surrounding them.

"Did you feel it?" She asked in a quiet voice, her eyes beginning to search for threats on the landscape.

"Are you too uneasy, Lady Alianor?" He replied, answering her whispered question with his own.

"Yes, Legolas. Something is coming, though I have not seen what."

They were unable to continue their hushed conversation, as Gimli's booming voice broke through the quiet, the only other noises the two elves (one elf and one half-elf) could hear were the crackling of Sam's fire and the clashing of blades from Boromir, Merry and Pippin.

"If anyone was to ask for my opinion, which I note they're not, I'd say we were taking the long way 'round. Gandalf, we could pass through the Mines of Moria. My cousin Balin would give us a royal welcome." Gimli said, trying to persuade Gandalf to not only change their course, but to take a route that filled those that heard the dwarf with dread. Legolas and Alianor exchanged glances, ones that silently communicated the others desire to take any route but the road through Moria. No elf, whether they be a full elf or a half elf, had the desire to go under ground. Though Alianor had always made an exception when it came to the dwarven city of Erebor under the Lonely Mountain. She had desired to go there since Bilbo had told her his stories. He had made the underground kingdom sound mystifying, and she hoped to travel there one day.

"No, I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice." Gandalf replied.

Legolas, who had not stopped searching for danger to listen to Gandalf and Gimli's exchange like Alianor had, was the first to notice the single 'dark cloud' that moved towards the Fellowship. He ran to stand on a higher boulder that elevated him and gave him a better view, and Alianor swiftly followed. Neither of them paid attention to the antics that Merry and Pippin were getting up to as they were absorbed in using their elven sight to make out what the dark mass was.

"What is that?" Sam questioned.

"Nothing. It's just a whisp of cloud." Gimli replied.

"It's moving fast. Against the wind." Boromir stated, as everyone inspected the dark mass that sped towards them.

"Crebain from Dunland!" Legolas announced. Alianor had already started moving, darting down from the boulder and grabbing her travel pack, grabbing Merry and Pippin and shoving them under a bush out of sight, before finding herself being dragged by Aragorn under a boulder, along with Frodo. Due to the limited space, Aragorn had pulled Alianor under him to make sure she was out of view.

Alianor didn't blush as most unmarried females would have done, because it wasn't the time for it. She simple buried her face into his shoulder until the caws of the crebain could no longer be heard. Aragorn rolled off of her, and held out his hand to help her to her feet.

"Spies from Saruman. The passage south is being watched. We must take the Pass of Caradhras." Gandalf said, turning his head to look towards the mountain. Alianor sighed. That journey would be more difficult and more taxing than the original. Not just physically, but, for Alianor at the very least, mentally also. Alianor cursed Saruman under her breath with a colorful language that she had heard many ruffians use on her travels.

Taking the Pass of Caradhras meant the Fellowship had to trudge through deep snow. Gandalf lead the group, with Merry, Pippin and Sam following closely behind him, Legolas, Boromir, Alianor, Gimli and Frodo in the middle and Aragorn hanging at the back.

Frodo fell, and tumbled backwards, and Aragorn sped forward, and righted him, hauling the halfling to his feet. When Frodo began to wipe the snow off of him, he noticed the ring had gone from around his neck. His eyes instantly started scanning the snow ahead of him for it, but soon saw that he had no need to panic for fear of losing the ring to the snow. Boromir had found it. No, Frodo had forgotten his earlier fear, replacing it with a new one.

The Gondorian stared at the ring he held aloft in front of his face with a barely concealed awe.

"Boromir." Aragorn said, trying to gain the Man's attention.

"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing," Boromir muttered, though his voice carried to the ears of Frodo and Aragorn. "Such a little thing."

Aragorn was about to call out Boromir's name again, more sharply this time, when suddenly a hand from behind Boromir snatched the ring from his grasp.

Alianor skirted round the shocked man, heading towards Frodo. Images filled her mind, but Alianor was determined not to be as weak as the Steward Prince and give in to her weakest desires, so did not break her stride. She gritted her teeth, tears in her eyes at the bleak future the ring or Sauron was trying to convince her would come to past, and forced herself to kneel at Frodo's feet.

She placed the Ring around his neck once more, and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Keep it safe, young one. Next time I may have to break the Gondorian's nose." Alianor managed to smile for him, and stood, brushing the snow off her breeches, before walking away. As she passed Boromir, she gave him a look. One that clearly said that he needed to try harder to resist the Ring's will.

As they climbed higher up the mountain, the path grew narrower, and the wind and snowfall became harsher. Gandalf was forced to use his staff to held move snow out of his path, and his body created a path for the others. Both Aragorn and Boromir had a hobbit tucked under each arm as they could no longer walk alone. Legolas and Alianor, possessing Elven abilities, were able to walk above the snow instead of having to trudge through it.

Legolas and Alianor daintily walked to the head of the group, taking point, when their Elvish ears heard a voice, travelling on the wind to them. Alianor inwardly told herself not to look down, to not take her eyes off of her elf-friend's back as they stepped forward before stopping.

"There is a fell voice on the air." Legolas said, loudly enough for Gandalf to hear, even if the old wizard had to strain to hear through the howling wind.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf bellowed, just before a loud crack was heard by all, and big chunks of rock and stone tumbled towards them. Legolas grabbed Alianor and they braced themselves against the mountain wall, narrowly avoiding being hit.

"He is trying to bring down the mountain! Gandalf, we must turn back!" Aragorn shouted desperately. His main concern were the hobbits at that moment. If they stayed on the mountain path much longer they would catch their deaths, because of the cold. His other concern was Alianor. He could see her cold breath coming out in short gasps as Legolas held onto her, knowing her fears himself. Her face showed panic and her eyes darted from the Hobbits, to Legolas to the edge of the cliff, as though she expected to go tumbling over it.

"No!" Gandalf replied, pushing himself up from the path he had cut out of the snow, to stand against Saruman's voice, chanting a spell of his own. Legolas and Alianor were the only two who could hear about the harsh winds to hear both wizards battling with magic that neither elf (or half elf in Alianor's case) could comprehend.

Suddenly, a lightning bolt struck the top of the mountain, causing heavy snow to drop on top of the Fellowship, burying them in a blanket of the cold, white powder. Legolas was the first to pull himself out of the snow, yanking Alianor free at the same time. Legolas could see the panic in her eyes, but also noticed that she was pushing it to the back of her mind. Alianor helped Legolas pull the others from the snow, heaving Aragorn to his feet, before grabbing Frodo and wrapping his cold arms round her neck to carry him.

"We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan, and take the west road to my city!" Boromir yelled above the harsh weather. Alianor knew the Gap of Rohan was no longer an option; it was all too near to Isengard.

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard." Aragorn snapped back, in line with the thoughts circling in Alianor's own head.

"We cannot go over the mountain, let us go under it! Let us go through the mines of Moria." Gimli suggested, the glee in his voice audible even to the Hobbits. The mines were the last plausible route, though the very idea of going underground made Alianor want to vomit.

Gandalf was quiet for a moment, like he was considering his options. Alianor clutched Frodo closer to her as she felt his frame shiver against her.

"Let the ring-bearer decide," Gandalf spoke at last. Frodo turned his head, away from Alianor's shoulder, towards Gandalf, and considered the weight of the burden and the matter at hand, while Alianor whispered encouragements into his ear. Alianor was inwardly furious. Frodo had enough of a burden without making him have a hand in their travel arrangements also. "Frodo?"

"We will go through the mines." Frodo decided, much to Alianor's dismay. Gandalf nodded, knowing it was a difficult decision.

"So be it." He murmured, just before they all turned and walked hesitantly and cautiously back the way they came, though it took them most of the day. It was difficult because of the storm, but once the fellowship reached the bottom, they made their way to the door under the mountain.

Dwarven doors are invisible, Alianor was told many years ago by Lord Elrond. She had seen the gates of Erebor a long time ago, but that was when it had been in ruins. Gimli told them of this as they trudged towards the old, long forgotten door. It was dark as they approached, but even the dwindling light did not lower the dwarf's voice.

"Dwarven doors are invisible when closed." Gimli said, as he tapped the mountain wall with his ax in an attempt at locating the door.

"Yes, even their own masters cannot find them if their secrets have been lost." Gandalf revealed, much to the amusement of the two elvish folk in the party.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Legolas asked, forcing Alianor to hide her smile for fear of offending the son of an old comrade of hers. She had fought in the battle of the five armies, had watched the dragon Smaug be slain by the man of Dale, and had seen Thorin Oakenshield and two of his kin be cut down in battle in the most honorable way for someone of his stature. That had been her first battle without Aragorn by her side. She had gone to visit Legolas in Mirkwood, while he had gone North to visit their people. Gimli reminded her of his father, especially his prejudice against elves.

They followed the rock wall until Gandalf found a spot where he suspected the rock was. Alianor didn't pay attention to the grey wizard as he muttered and his hands roamed over the rock face. Her attentions were on the lake. Something evil lurked beneath the surface, and Alianor watched it like a hawk.

When Gandalf spoke louder, Alianor tore her gaze from the lake to face him out of respect that had been instilled in her by her mother, and Lord Elrond. Her eyes widened slightly as the once bare rock shine brightly like the stars in the night sky. She supposed that's how the door was appearing; by the light of the stars.

"It reads 'the door of Durin, lord of Moria. Speak friend and enter." Gandalf read, tapping his staff on the elvish words as he read them out.

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry questioned, as all members of the fellowship stared at the closed doorway.

"It's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open." Gandalf explained, before he pressed the end of his staff against the mountain wall and began to chant in a language that they didn't recognize.

The hobbits who were weary from their travels watched hopefully as the wizard stopped chanting, but the doorway did not open. Alianor moved forward to where Merry and Pippin stood and wrapped her arms around their shoulders, trying to bring them some reassurance as Gandalf's second attempt failed and he simply began trying to push the door open by force.

"I once knew all the spells in the tongues of elves, men and dwarves." Gandalf muttered lowly, but loud enough that Alianor's elvish hearing picked up his speech. She sighed, knowing that they could be in for a long wait.

"What are you going to do then?" Pippin asked, and Alianor sighed again. She was beginning to believe that Pippin really had no idea what tact was.

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregin Took, and if that does not shatter them, then I might ask for a little peace from such foolish questions." Gandalf snapped at the halfling, much to Alianor's disapproval, though she did not voice this. She had much respect for the old, wise wizard and she would show nothing but respect to him for the duration of their journey.

Alianor squeezed Pippin's shoulder and kissed the top of his head, before she let two of her charges go, and walked slightly backwards, towards the lake again. She did not like them standing so close to it.

Gandalf carried on trying to open the doorway, while the rest of the fellowship waited, some impatiently. Alianor grew weary of observing the lake so moved to help Aragorn and Sam unpack Bill, the pony, as he would not join them in the mines.

"The mines are no place for a pony, even one so brave as Bill." Aragorn explained to Sam, as the hobbit almost mournfully removed his tack.

"Buh-bye, Bill." Sam murmured to Bill, as Aragorn took the bridle from the stout hobbit and turned Bill around, telling the horse to go on.

Alianor rested her hand on Sam's shoulder, and he looked up at her, smiling in spite of his small sorrow at the loss of his companion.

"Do not worry, Sam. Bill knows his way home." She said softly, before she smiled at him. Hearing a splash, she turned and spotted Merry and Pippin throwing stones into the lake, much to her horror. Who knew what was lurking in the deep? Aragorn seemed to notice her distress and hurried towards the hobbits before she could, and caught Pippin's arm before he threw another stone.

"Do not disturb the water." He warned, though Alianor sensed it was much too late. She kept her hand on her blade as her eyes scanned the murky depths for any movement. Her elven eyes soon picked up on the ripples that ceased to be caused by the hobbits' boredom. Aragorn and Boromir also noticed this, and three sets of eyes observed as the water seemed to move towards them on the shore.

"What's the elvish word for friend?" Frodo asked, and although she was barely paying attention, Alianor still heard Gandalf's reply.

"_Mellon." _

Then they all turned towards the sound of cracking, and rock sliding against rock. The door was open. The fellowship moved forward, but Alianor lingered behind. She was still wary of what had moved beneath the water. It was not good whatever it was. She slowly moved towards the door backwards, not removing her eyes from whatever unseen threat was biding its time under the surface of the lake. Her dwarven companion started talking the instant he walked inside.

"Soon, my friends, you'll enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves. Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat of the bone. This, my friends, is the home of my cousin, Balin," Gimli enthused, bringing a smile to Alianor's face as she finally turned her back to the entrance and focused on the way ahead. She remembered Balin, a wise dwarf with a kind face and a long, white beard. "And they call it a mine. A mine!"

Gandalf lit up a stone on the end of his staff and along with the moonlight that flooded through the open doorway, there was sufficient light for them to see around the room. Boromir was the first to speak his mind about what they saw.

"This is no mine. It is a tomb."

That is when the gasps of shock erupted from the hobbits, and Gimli started looking around in horror at the decimated bodies of his kind. He ran over to a body, and Alianor watched with a lump in her throat as the dwarf let out a cry of pain at the sight of so many dwarvish skeletons.

Alianor pulled her bow from its quiver and strung an arrow, keeping it pointed towards the ground, while her eyes scanned for potential enemies. Legolas pulled an arrow from a skeleton and deduced that there were goblins. After that the males in her company withdrew their weapons, eyes staring into the darkness that was the mines of Moria, anticipating an attack.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here." Boromir said.

"It is too late for that, Boromir. We are here now and must deal with the consequences." Alianor hissed at him, beginning to tire of his constant stream of arguments and protests. They were a fellowship, companions, with a leader. One doesn't question a leader's authority or things begin to fall apart, as they were now.

"Get out! Get out!" Boromir yelled, listening to the woman's words, but choosing to ignore them now. None of the older members of the company had realized that Frodo had been grabbed until Alianor heard the other three hobbits voices rise in panic. She turned as Sam called for 'Strider', and she and her lover ran to aid the ring-bearer. Sam managed to beat a large tentacle away, but only to be knocked away as several more burst forth from the lake.

An arrow whistled through the air from Alianor's bow, and ripped right through the tentacle that had Frodo hanging upside in the air by his ankle. She and Legolas stayed on the shore, while Boromir and Aragorn waded into the shallows of the lake and slashed at the tentacles with their swords. More tentacles wrapped themselves around Frodo's limbs and the large head of a beast rose from the water. Alianor knew she was right to be wary of the water now. It opened its horrendous mouth that was filled with a row of sharp teeth, it's intentions made clear. It planned on eating the ring-bearer. Boromir's sword sliced through two tentacles and he sheathed his swords and held out his arms to catch Frodo.

"Into the mines!" Gandalf ordered them, ushering the three standing hobbits past him. Gimli followed behind, ready to protect Sam, Merry and Pippin from dangers that lurked within the mines.

Legolas and Alianor did not move. They waited until Aragorn and Boromir had moved slightly before they fired at the eyes of the creature, which angered it greatly. They followed the two men inside as the creature moved forward, tentacles grabbing a hold of the doors, and collapsing the entry way.

And just like that, all the light went out.


	6. A Journey In The Dark

The darkness was unsettling, and the air was so thick and old in this abandoned mine that as Alianor breathed it in she felt as though it wrapped itself around her throat and choked her before she forced it down into her lungs. One glance at Legolas let her know she was not alone in this feeling. Elves hated being underground. The open air, the woods and the meadows; those places are where they belonged, not in some dark, horrid cavern in the ground. Though Alianor had admitted before that she desired to visit Erebor, the dwarven kingdom under the Lonely Mountain, and would gleefully venture underground in that circumstance.

But these mines were not Erebor.

There was no life here in Moria; none of the fabled hospitality of the dwarves would be enjoyed by the Fellowship like Gimli had vowed. They were trapped in a tomb.

"We now have but one choice," Gandalf said, as he re-lit the stone on the end of his staff as he moved past the rest of the Company. "We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world." Gandalf walked ahead, with the Fellowship following one by one, until, at the very end of the group, was Alianor and Aragorn.

"_I do not like this place_," She muttered to the ranger in Elvish, whilst they walked at the back of their company with their weapons still drawn (though Alianor had exchanged her bow for her sword).

"We have no choice but to move forward, _Elbereth_." Aragorn answered, laying his free hand on her shoulder, and squeezing once, before he nudged her in front of him. He wanted to be able to see her at all times while they were in this darkened tomb that was littered with the skeletons of felled dwarves.

"Quietly now. It's a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed." Gandalf murmured, his voice travelling back to Alianor's elven ears. She bit her tongue so that she could not voice her doubts on that subject. Surely, if there were goblins or orcs within the mountain, the crashing of the doors being caved in would have alerted them to their presence.

The Fellowship followed Gandalf and his light over questionable bridges, narrow pathways until they reached a staircase. It was steep enough that at points the hobbits had to use their hands to help them climb. Alianor took care herself when she climbed the stone steps, moving past some of the company to aid Merry and Pippin when they stumbled.

They were making good progress for a few hours march, until they came to a fork in the road. Alianor left Merry and Pippin behind her, knowing they could make the last few stairs alone, and followed Gandalf to the top, where he stopped still.

Three passageways stood before them. One went left, one went right, and one went straight on. Yet when Alianor opened her mouth to ask Gandalf which they'd be taking, his muttered a sentence that stopped her from speaking.

"I have no memory of this place."

Alianor felt dismay fill her body, and turned away from the archways, defeated, and waited for Aragorn to reach the top of the stairs.

Moments later, the entire Fellowship was sitting in various places around Gandalf, but not near him, as he stared at the three passageways from his own seat on an elevated slab of stone. Alianor sat in between Boromir and Aragorn, the latter smoking his pipe, and listened to the hushed conversations of her friends.

"Are we lost?" Pippin asked again, to the annoyance of Merry.

"No." The blonde hobbit replied sharply.

"I think we are."

"Ssh. Gandalf's thinking." Merry snapped, trying to quiet his friend, and for a brief moment, Pippin was silent. But it was very brief, and not long enough.

"Merry?"

"What?"

"I'm hungry." Alianor turned her head at those words, and reached into her pack that was on her lap, and broke off a piece of dry bread and, after murmuring his name so she had his attention, tossed it to the hungry hobbit. Pippin caught it, and chewed it happily. Alianor turned around again, her eyes trained on the descent ahead of her.

Her arms were wrapped around her pack, but she wished she could hold Aragorn's hand. She could hear the soft, padding footfalls of something moving below them, but she didn't want to alert and frighten the halflings unnecessarily. She had been hearing them for the past three days, as had Legolas, but they had agreed not to mention anything.

"There's something down there." She heard Frodo say, presumably to Gandalf.

"It's Gollum." Alianor's body tensed noticeably at the name, and Aragorn laid his pipe-less hand on her knee in an effort to calm her fears, though he knew naught of what caused them at that moment. Alianor had heard of the creature Gollum from Bilbo's stories. He had told her of the riddles in the dark; how he had bested the pathetic, mangy thing at a game of riddles and then had tricked the creature into showing him the way out the Misty Mountains. He was nothing but a body full of evil intents and a heart that yearned for one thing; the Ring.

"Gollum?" She heard Frodo ask, then listened as the footfalls became slightly louder.

"He's been following us for three days." Gandalf replied, confirming Alianor's train of thought.

"He escaped the dungeons of Barad-dûr?" Frodo questioned, and Alianor heard the slight disbelief and fear in his tone. But she knew that a sniveling worm of a being like Gollum would not have been able to escape that fortress on his own.

"Escaped...or was set loose," Gandalf answered, and Alianor almost nodded at his words, but stopped herself. She sighed, and rested her head on Aragorn's shoulder, feeling weary from their journey. At every stop so far since Rivendell, Alianor had taken the night watch, or shared it with one of her company and now she was starting to feel the human blood in her protesting against her. Being half-elven meant that Alianor could forgo sleep for days and still be able to fight, but she would feel slightly lethargic at times. Right now, Alianor blamed her tiredness on the lack of light. "He hates and loves the Ring, as he hates and loves himself. He will never be rid of his need for it."

"It's a pity Bilbo didn't kill him when he had the chance." Alianor flinched at the hobbit's harsh words. She had not expected them to come from Frodo. Already she had noticed a change in him; it was a small change, but it worried her nonetheless.

"Pity? It was pity that stayed Bilbo's hand. Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo?" Gandalf asked the ring-bearer. As Alianor had her back to them, she couldn't see Frodo's reply as he hadn't given on verbally, if he had even given one at all. "Do not be too eager to deal out death and judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play yet, for good or ill...before this is over. The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many."

There was a long pause in the wizard and the hobbit's conversation, but when Alianor's ears heard it pick up again, her heart almost broke from the sadness in Frodo's voice.

"I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened." Frodo lamented.

"So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us," Alianor looked up at Aragorn when Gandalf spoke those words. With all the time that the Valar gifted her with she would spend, from now until she drew her last breath, by Aragorn's side. Aragorn noticed her staring and smiled down at her, his pipe between his lips. Gandalf continued talking as Alianor gazed up at the man she loved and listened to the wizard's words. "There are other forces at work in this world, Frodo, besides the will of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring. In which case, you also were meant to have it. And that is an encouraging thought."

There was a pause, and all noise ceased, until a soft, but seemingly loud, exclamation erupted from Gandalf's mouth.

"It's that way." He said, and all the Fellowship turned their heads to look at him, before they climbed to their feet. Alianor swung her pack back onto her shoulders, before she got up with the aid of both Aragorn and Boromir. Strange, but when Alianor slipped her hand into the Steward Prince's he looked as though he had been struck by a lightening bolt and the dumbstruck expression stayed until she stopped contact with him.

"He's remembered." Merry said, happily as he climbed to his own feet.

"No, but the air doesn't smell so foul down here," Gandalf said, as he stood in the archway that led to a staircase that stooped down into the darkness. He placed his hat back atop his head, and turned his head to make sure the company was following him. "If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose."

They trudged down the staircase, until they faced an open cavern.

"Let me risk a little more light," Gandalf muttered, and did as he said. The light brightened, and Alianor gazed around the large room in wonderment. It wasn't a room at all, this had to have been a small dwarven town or city. Gandalf stepped forward, holding his staff slightly aloft to show off some of the impressive stone pillars. "Behold, the great realm and Dwarf-city of Dwarrowdelf."

Alianor felt humbled by the sight, yes, but she still thought that even the once magnificent realm of Dwarrowdelf couldn't hold a candle to the beauty and wonder of Imladris or Lothlórien.

"That's an eyeopener, and no mistake." Sam muttered, as they all stood gazing upon the old strength and craftsmanship of the dwarves.

Alianor smiled, and was the first to follow their guide through the abandoned stone city. It took what felt like an age before they saw a new doorway. Alianor soon wished they hadn't when Gimli let out a noise of shock and ran forward and inside the room. His companions all followed him, and Alianor understood why Gimli had run. A stone coffin was in the center of the room, a narrow strip of moonlight falling up on it. Alianor watched the last living dwarf in Moria with sad, sympathetic eyes as he fell to his knees in front of the coffin, and cried in anguish.

"No." He cried, and Alianor moved forward and placed her hand gently on his shoulder. He looked up at her, and under normal circumstances, because of her elvish blood, he would have shaken her hand off, but Gimli liked this elf-woman. She was witty, knew how to handle a blade and was kind to him, despite the fact he was a dwarf and she was supposed to have a natural aversion to him and his kind. He cast his eyes to the floor, and let her comfort him as Gandalf read the inscription on the coffin.

"'lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria'," Alianor felt a lump in her throat. Balin was a good dwarf. It upset her that he met his end trapped in such a miserable place, instead of in a glorious battle or of old age, an end he deserved. Gimli sobbed harder, his cries becoming louder as his grief became worse. Balin was his cousin. "He is dead, then. It's as I feared."

Gandalf looked about the stone slab before he noticed the skeleton that was leaning against it. He passed Pippin his hat and staff, and grabbed a book in the skeleton's arms. He wiped away some of the dust and cobwebs, ignoring the pages that fell out. Gandalf opened the book up and blew some more dust away as he smoothed his fingers over the page. Legolas stood next to Aragorn, and voiced the same concern Alianor knew the older (or taller - Alianor was not sure the Hobbits felt the same concerns as they did) of them were feeling.

"We must move on. We cannot linger."

Aragorn didn't reply as Gandalf had started to read out of the book. It must have been a recording of the last events to happen in Dwarrowdelf.

"'They have taken the bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gates but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums, drums in the deep. We cannot get out,'," The passage of the book that Gandalf was reading was making everyone shift nervously. Alianor's own eyes flickered around the room, trying and failing to locate a second doorway that would lead out if they got attacked in here. "'A Shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out. They are coming.'"

Gandalf looked up at the companions as he read the last words, a grim expression clear on his face. Suddenly, a loud crash made the group all flinch and wince as they realized the sound came from the room. Pippin looked extremely bashful, as he stood near an old well or mine shaft that had a now headless skeleton sat on it. They all stared in dismay as the rest of the skeleton tumbled down along with an old bucket. Echoes filled the room of the falling loads as they bounced down in the chasms until the crashing finally ceased with one last, loud thud.

Gandalf slammed the book closed, as he glared at the young Hobbit.

"Fool of a Took!" He hissed, placing the book down in its resting place. "Throw yourself in next time, and rid us of your stupidity."

Gandalf snatched his hat and staff away from Pippin, turning his back on him, until he heard the sound he'd been dreading. The echoes of drums in the deep. Alianor stepped away from Gimli, and closer to the three hobbits. Her eyes zoned in on Frodo's dagger. It was glowing blue.

"Orcs." Legolas said, confirming their fears.

Boromir ran to the doors, and almost got his head impaled by two arrows.

"Get back! Stay close to Gandalf!" Aragorn instructed the hobbits, and Alianor ushered them back, before stringing a bow to her arrow as the two Men and Legolas barricaded the doors shut.

"They have a cave-troll." Boromir informed them wearily, as he leaned against the door. Legolas tossed them some axes to jam across the doorway, and used a couple of spears to brace it, but Alianor knew that their quick work wouldn't hold the doors closed for long. She stood, bowstring pulled back to her face, taut and ready, in front of the tomb of Balin and waited. Aragorn stood on her right, Legolas on her left. Alianor's eyes flickered to Aragorn and found his were already on her. She smiled at him as well as she could in that moment. They were trapped and most likely outnumbered. There was little hope in this situation, but Alianor wouldn't show her inner fears. So she smiled and turned her eyes back to the door.

Gimli jumped up onto Balin's tomb, wielding his ax.

"Let them come. There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!" Gimli growled.

The door started to shake. The tips of Orc weapons were poking through the wood, and Alianor started to listen to the sound of her heartbeat. Her eyes narrowed in on a large enough hole to take out an Orc on the other side, so in between heartbeats she released her arrow at the same time as Legolas did. She quickly strung another and let it fly through the air as the doors splintered and Orcs poured in. Her arrow sunk into the eye of one Orc and she quickly released another and it landed in the neck of a particularly ugly goblin.

As the swarm rushed towards them, Alianor exchanged her bow for her sword and had just a moment to raise it in her own defense. The clang of swords rang out and Alianor kicked the damned creature back and sunk her sword into its chest. She could hear the battle cries of her male comrades, but Alianor was a more silent fighter. It was another reason why she had earned the name Ghost in Bree. No one heard her even as she forced her sword into her enemy.

There was one reason that Alianor didn't want the hobbits to fight and it wasn't just to preserve their innocence. Alianor found herself dancing round them, killing any enemy that tried to harm them, and she was distracted when she lost sight of any of the four halflings.

And then the cave-troll burst through into the tomb.

Alianor stared up at it, before she focused her attention back to the Orc that was trying to remove her head from her shoulders. She ducked and relieved it of its own, kicking the headless body away from her and cutting off the arm of another, before she had to roll out of the way of flying pieces of stone. When Alianor rose to her feet again, stabbing and hacking at Orcs, she noticed that the troll had destroyed Balin's tomb. Alianor sent a silent prayer to Valar, hoping the dead dwarf's peace had not been disturbed, before she continued fighting again.

With a slight panic, Alianor realized she had lost sight of the hobbits. Her sword sliced through the stomach of a goblin, and, after she'd shoved the body to the floor, her eyes scouted for any sign of the halflings. She spotted Sam smacking Orcs with his frying pan, much to her amusement, and then she spotted the other three...being attacked by the troll. Pippin and Merry dived left, and Frodo dived right as the troll swung its club where they had just been stood. It had no interest in Pippin and Merry, however, and focused its attention on Frodo.

"Frodo!" She yelled, as she fought her way to him, punching, kicking, slicing, and hacking her way through the Orcs in her way. Aragorn was doing the same, and together they were slowly making their way over to the hobbit. Frodo had taken to hiding behind a stone pillar, moving around it when the troll tried to find him. Alianor leaned against a wall, tiredly, as there was a tiny lull in the Orcs attacking her.

"Aragorn! Alianor!" Frodo cried, drawing her attention. The troll had Frodo by the foot, and he was clinging onto one of the pillars for dear life.

"Frodo!" Aragorn yelled, as he and his love both burst into action. Frodo managed to slice the troll's hand with his dagger, but, once the troll let go of him, he fell to the floor. The cave-troll looked like it was about finish Frodo, when Aragorn jumped in front of him, armed with a spear, which he thrust into the troll's chest. Merry and Pippin began their assault on the troll at the same time, throwing rocks at its head, but that only angered the creature more. It raised its arm and batted Aragorn away, sending the Man flying through the air until he was stopped by hitting one of the pillars. He landed in a heap and Alianor watched with wide eyes. Aragorn had gone ahead of her, because she insisted on helping Gimli with his Orcs, but now she wished she had taken his place. Aragorn was injured and Frodo was now defenseless. The troll blocked his exit with the same spear that Aragorn had used to impale it, and back Frodo into a corner. And as Alianor fought her way over to him, the troll stabbed Frodo in the chest.

Alianor stopped moving as she watched Frodo gasp for air. She had failed him. She had promised to protect him, and she had failed. She stared as Frodo's lifeless body slumped forward so he was face down on the stone floor, and this meant she didn't see the Orc that was sneaking up on her right side. A sharp sting ripped through her abdomen, and she gasped, before swinging her sword and beheading the culprit. Alianor glanced down at the wound, and it was only small. Alianor then let her rage over the death of the Ring-bearer take over her, and she fought with such a fury that she had never experienced before.

As Alianor, Boromir, Sam and Gandalf teamed up to take care of the rest of the Orcs left in the room, Merry, Pippin, Legolas and Gimli began the assault on the troll, with the others joining later.

Merry and Pippin were stabbing the troll from their places on its back, until it grabbed Merry and hung him upside down and dropped him. Pippin held on for dear life.

Gimli and Gandalf sliced at the cave-troll's legs, but the creature knocked them down quickly with one swing of its arm.

Legolas and Alianor strung their bows and waited for the most opportune time, which coincidentally Pippin provided after he stabbed the creature in the back of the neck, causing it to expose its throat. Alianor and Legolas released their arrows at the same time, both sinking into the soft flesh of its throat.

The troll groaned and started to stumble forward. The remaining members of the Fellowship skittered backwards, trying to avoid being squished to death. When the troll finally fell, Pippin was thrown forwards and Alianor helped him to his feet, before she rushed over to Frodo and Aragorn, who was already crawling towards the fallen hobbit.

"Oh, no." Aragorn whispered, as he rolled Frodo over onto his lap. But as he did so, breath rushed out of the hobbit's mouth and Frodo groaned. He was alive! Alianor sunk to her knees in front of the hobbit, and laughed breathlessly.

"He's alive!" She said to the others, with Sam repeating her words in relief.

Frodo pushed himself up into a sitting position, his hand against his chest as he breathed heavily.

"I'm all right. I'm not hurt." Frodo assured them.

"You should be dead," Aragorn said, though a tone of surprise and joy was in his words. "That spear would have skewered a wild boar."

"I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye." Gandalf said, as Frodo pulled open his shirt to reveal the shining, rare armor underneath. It was beautiful, and Alianor had not seen anything like it for many years.

"Mithril," Gimli whispered, staring at the beautiful undershirt with a smile on his lips, before he continued in a louder voice. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins."

That was when they heard the stomping of hundreds of feet, and the excited shrill shrieks of more enemies that moved towards them.

"To the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!" Gandalf instructed them. Alianor helped Frodo to his feet, and ushered him and the other hobbits forward as they fled the room and followed Gandalf through Dwarrowdelf once more. The battle cries of the Orcs filled their ears, and Alianor gripped her sword tighter in her hand as she saw the dark swarm grow larger and more substantial as it chased them.

Soon they were forced to stop as they were surrounded. Alianor placed herself in front of Frodo as the more experienced fighters of their company pushed the hobbits to the middle and did their best to hide them from view. They were trapped again, yet there was no hope of escape this time.

Until they heard a roar, and the ground trembled slightly beneath their feet. Alianor's eyes watched as the Orcs began to panic, and ran as if their lives depended on it. Alianor would have been happy, had it not been for the ominous red light that slowly crept towards them.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir questioned, as they all stared in horror, waiting for some indication of whether they should flee or fight.

Gandalf was quiet a long time, until there was another deep growl, and then he answered Boromir's question.

"A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" Gandalf yelled, and the company all sprang into action, racing after the old wizard, into a new archway that led further down. Alianor was just behind the hobbits the whole time, but was close enough to Aragorn and Gandalf to hear their conversation once they stopped because Boromir had almost fallen to his death.

"Lead them on, Aragorn. The bridge is near. Do as I say! Swords are no more use here." Gandalf instructed him, as they all ran down a new flight of stairs until they came to a large crack.

Legolas didn't hesitate to jump across first, then looked expectantly back at Alianor. She took a deep breath, before she jumped across into her friend's arms, and stepped back as Gandalf jumped across. The walls began to shake as the threat of the Balrog came ever closer, and Sam jumped back slightly as an arrow almost impaled his foot.

"I shall deal with this." Alianor said to Legolas, and he nodded and focused his attention back to his companions as she withdrew her bow and located their attacker. She breathed in deep, and waited until she was between heartbeats to release the arrow, which whistled through the air before tearing through the forehead of an Orc archer.

"Merry! Pippin!" Alianor heard Boromir shout, and then felt the soft thud as they landed on her side of the cracked staircase, but she also heard the crumbling as a chunk of stairwell broke away. Alianor saw from her peripheral vision that the crack had grown larger from Aragorn's side. She grimaced but turned her attentions back to the archers still firing at them. Together, Legolas and Alianor killed each archer, but as soon as one was felled, another took its place.

"Sam." She heard Aragorn say, before a grunt that she assumed was Aragorn tossing Sam across the chasm.

"Nobody tosses a Dwarf," Gimli's voice said, as another of Alianor's arrows whizzed through the air and ripped through an Orc eye. She heard Gimli yell, and turned to see him hanging by his beard as Legolas stopped him from falling. "Not the beard!"

Legolas pulled him forward, but Alianor watched with fear spreading in her veins like ice as more of the stairway cracked and Aragorn almost fell to his death, but she watched in relief as he pulled himself up. Now it was just Frodo and Aragorn left to join them, but the chasm was too large for them to jump across. Alianor continued aiding Legolas with removing the archer threat, but her eyes would flicker over to the two companions that remained on the other side.

The floor trembled again, and an almighty roar was heard, before a large piece of stone fell and separated the staircase from the top, leaving it unstable on Aragorn and Frodo's end. Alianor stopped firing on their enemy to watch with bated breath, as the stairs her love and her ward were standing upon began to sway slightly from side to side.

"Hang on!" Aragorn instructed Frodo, as they were both forced to lean backwards, but Aragorn realized how to make it across the large gap that separated them from their companions. "Lean forward!"

The staircase began to tilt forward and Boromir and Legolas readied themselves to catch their companions.

"Now!" Aragorn yelled, as he jumped into Legolas' arms, muttering his thanks to his friend. Frodo leaped into Boromir's arms and then followed the others quickly as they began their descent once more, ignoring the shuddering stone beneath them.

"Over the bridge!" Gandalf instructed them, as the bridge came into view. They all ran towards it, before they felt the rumbling increase, and they stopped and turned around as the Balrog jumped out of a crevice and stood in front of Gandalf and roared in the wizard's face. Gandalf turned, and the whole company began to run again, with the Balrog giving chase.

Aragorn was the first over the bridge, followed swiftly by Boromir, Frodo, Pippin, Merry, Sam, Alianor, Gimli and Legolas. Alianor stopped and waited with Aragorn for Gandalf, but the old wizard stopped in the middle of the bridge and faced the the creature of flame and darkness.

"You cannot pass!" Gandalf yelled, and Alianor watched in horror as she realized her old friend and mentor meant to sacrifice himself.

"Gandalf!" Frodo shouted in fear, as the creature stood taller, and the flames upon it grew larger.

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Arnor," Gandalf said, raising his staff above his head and the light at the end brightened significantly and a sphere of light engulfed him. "The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn!"

The Balrog raised a sword of fire above his head and brought it down onto the giant ball of light. Alianor heard Gandalf's groan, and when the creature removed its sword, the light surrounding the wizard disappeared.

"Go back to the Shadow," Gandalf told it, but the creature stepped forward menacingly, and produced a flaming whip and cracked it in the air. "You shall not pass!"

Gandalf slammed the bottom of his staff against the bridge and a bolt of light came from it, but nothing else seemed to happen...until the Balrog moved forward and the stone underneath its feet gave way and it fell into the shadow. The fellowship watched with bated breath as Gandalf stared into the abyss and then turning towards them...before he was suddenly clinging onto the edge.

Alianor went to run forward but Aragorn wrapped his arms around her and forced her back.

"No! No!" Boromir's voice was heard, as he struggled to keep Frodo from running towards the falling wizard.

"Gandalf!" Frodo yelled, and tears fell from Alianor's eyes as she writhed in the arms of her lover to get free of his hold and help the old man.

"_Mithrandir_!" She screamed, as she clutched Aragorn's arm in her hand, giving up on trying to escape.

Gandalf looked up at them, as he held on to the edge of the bridge, and Alianor felt her stomach knot in response to the next words he said.

"Fly, you fools!" He ordered them, before releasing his grip on the stone and falling.

"No!" Frodo cried, and struggled against Boromir, until the Gondorian was forced to pick the hobbit up to drag him away. Alianor pushed Aragorn off her and ran up the final steps, tears streaming down her face and blurring her vision. She realized Aragorn had not followed her, so stopped and called out to him and only moved again once her eyes registered that he was coming.

Once they had escaped the mountain, different members of the Fellowship fell to their knees in different places around the same area. Alianor collapsed and hugged her knees to her as she allowed her tears to fall. Normally, she was composed and wouldn't allow such weakness to be seen by anyone, but Gandalf had been important to her. He, her _ada, _and her grandmother had helped her understand her gift of foresight. Gandalf had imparted so much of his wisdom unto her, and shared so many of his stories, and Alianor had always loved the old wizard the way one would love a grandparent. So she sobbed and was not ashamed of doing so.

"Legolas, get them up." Aragorn ordered, and Alianor glanced up at him in surprise.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir protested, as he walked over to Alianor and helped her up. She quietly thanked him and wiped her tears on her sleeve.

"By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with Orcs. We must reach the woods of Lothlórien," Aragorn informed the Steward Prince, as he rushed towards Sam and pulled the hobbit to his feet. "Come, Boromir. Legolas. Gimli, get them up. On your feet, Sam."

Aragorn turned and spotted Frodo walking off into the distance.

"Frodo? Frodo!" He called to the Ring-bearer, who stopped, and slowly turned and revealed his grief. Alianor felt new tears prickling at the broken, hopeless expression on the young hobbit's face. Only when Aragorn saw that Frodo had began to move back towards them did he turn his attentions to the woman of their group. Alianor stood off to the side, suddenly feeling the wound she had been inflicted, and tried to hide her pain from the group, but Aragorn spotted the blood on her hand, and it wasn't Orc blood.

He approached her and pushed her hand away from her side and noticed the blood sleeping through her tunic.

"When did this happen?" Aragorn questioned, raising his eyes to look in to hers.

"It's just a scratch. You need to lead them, Estel. We need to get moving and you need to push them or they'll lose all hope," Alianor said, wiping more tears from her eyes with her less bloody sleeve. "Do not worry about me. I will be fine."

Aragorn searched her eyes, for pain, but what pain he did see, he could only put down as grief. He couldn't see the wound, so could only be satisfied with her description of it. Aragorn nodded once at her, and pushed off ahead, taking the lead and urging the company forward.

With Aragorn's constant pushing, they made it down the mountain while the sun still shone in the sky. Alianor's eyes narrowed in on the forest in the distance and her heart swelled. She was almost home...well one of her homes.

As soon as they crossed the border into Lothlórien, Alianor felt more at ease. The sight of the tall trees and green grass made Alianor feel lighter, safer, more at home. She was breathing more easily; the fresh air entered her throat and lungs more easily and freely than the musty, ancient air of the mines. All the company seemed happy to be away from that horrid place, even more evil now that it was tainted with the loss of their wizard and friend.

Alianor would have run ahead and sent back an envoy of her grandmother's heralds to escort her friends to the heart of Lórien, but the gash on her side was beginning to ail her now that her body had realised the fight was over and her mind and heart were in mourning. Aragorn kept glancing back at her as he led the company on, his eyes drifting down to her hand that was pressed tight against the wound that still bled. She was causing him distraction and berated herself for it. If she hadn't let her guard down when she saw that Frodo had been stabbed by the troll, then the goblin wouldn't have marked her and Aragorn wouldn't be worrying over her.

They ventured further into the forest, with no one speaking until Gimli took it upon himself to give his companions a warning about the woods, but Alianor couldn't keep a good focus on his words to berate him for them. She took her hand away from her wound, and glared down at her bloody hand. She had been wrong. It wasn't a simply nick. There was too much blood for this to have been a small cut like she had told Aragorn and Boromir. When the latter turned to look at her, she slapped her hand back onto her wound, holding back a hiss of pain, and continued to hurry forward. Her elven grace kept her from stumbling too much, but she didn't know how long that would last.

Thankfully, she soon found herself staring at an arrowhead that was aimed at her face. The wardens of Lórien had come to greet them…well arrest them or kill them. Alianor was sure that none of them recognised her, most likely due to the blood that covered her face and her general look of disarray, because if they had she would already be on her way to her grandmother by now. Alianor could make out Aragorn's voice and then her name was mentioned, and the arrow pointed at her face was suddenly gone and an old friend stood in front of her instead.

"Lady Alianor, we did not know it was you. I can only hope you will accept my most humblest of apologies," Haldir said, bowing low, before he noticed the blood that was seeping through my fingers as the wound still bled. He straightened up and pushed her hand away. "_You are hurt_."

_"It is just a scratch, dear friend, if you take me to my lady, I will accept your apology. We need help, Haldir._" Alianor replied in the same tongue, thought it was through gritted teeth as the pain increased.

"This is no mere scratch, my lady. We need to get you to the Lady Galadriel. She can help you. I will carry you, my lady. You'll falter otherwise." Alianor protested Haldir's offer, slowly backing away from her other elven friend until she stepped onto something. Then that something swung her up into his arms. Aragorn stared down at her with a grim expression on his face, and a muted anger in his eyes. He was angry at her for not telling him the truth of how bad her wound truly was.

"Come. She is waiting." Haldir said, turning and leading them at a hurried pace. Despite being weighed down with her body, Aragorn managed to keep a fast past as he followed Haldir to the heart of the woods. Alianor knew that they were close as the tree trunks grew thicker and as she stared up, she began to see the houses and spiralled staircases that curled round the trees. Alianor had grown accustomed to sleeping high up in the trees here at Lórien, in spite of her fear of heights, mostly because she had no other choice.

Soon, Alianor felt them climbing one of the staircases, and noticed the bright white lights that could only mean they were nearing the royal housing, but Alianor didn't get the chance to see her grandparents as the rhythm of Aragorn's footfalls, weariness and her blood loss dragged her into a beloved state of unconsciousness.


	7. Lothlorien Part One

_italics = elvish_

**Bold = visions/dreams/flashbacks**

Alianor's eyes fluttered open, and a white-green light filled her vision. She blinked rapidly as she tried to get her elven eyes to focus, and then the ceiling of her bedroom appeared above her. She couldn't remember how she got into her room at Lothlorièn. All her memory allowed her to remember was Aragorn lifting her - unwillingly, might she add - into his arms and carrying her through Lorièn. And then there was just darkness.

Alianor, slowly, sat up, feeling very tired and sluggish, like she'd been in a drinking contest with a dwarf and had desperately attempted to win. She stretched her limbs in an attempt to rid herself of the stiffness she was experiencing and felt a painful tug on her abdomen. She winced, and gently ran her fingers over the area her wound was. That's when she noticed that she was no longer wearing her ranger clothing. What her hands were running over just then was the finest white Elven silk, something similar to what her grandmother wore.

Alianor swung her legs over the edge of her bed. She could not stay in bed any longer, she felt as though she had slept a hundred years, but she had more energy than she had days ago. She rose to her feet, slightly shaky on her legs, and slowly made her way forward out of the room, noting that it was still night. She had not slept as long as she had thought.

Her rooms were on the lowest level of the royal housing, because of her fear of heights making her unable to go any higher up without an escort to calm her down. That was one of her stranger weaknesses, but she felt her weaknesses made her stronger. As she clumsily made her way down the spiral staircase to the ground, she could hear the elves singing a lament for Gandalf, and she felt as though a knife was twisting in her heart. Her old friend, and mentor, had fallen into shadow, and there had been nothing that she could have done. She blinked away tears as her feet touched soft, green grass, and she stood for a moment, listening to the heartbroken lament.

That's when her elven hearing picked up familiar voices. Alianor turned her head to the left and spied her companions, some who had noticed her. The hobbits stared at her in wonderment - well, Merry, Pippin and Sam had, Frodo had not seen her - and that drew the attention of the men in their group. Aragorn gazed at her, a smile on his face which slowly was wiped away as he noticed the grief on hers. Alianor made no move to join them, which confused Merry and Pippin, so they went to her instead. They slowly walked towards her, as though any faster movement would frighten her away like a deer feeling its being hunted, and came to a stop on either side of her. The two young hobbits took her hands, and gently tugged her towards their companions.

They helped her sit down, though she batted their hands away. She'd experienced worse battle scars before, she could handle this one with a practiced ease. The two hobbits sat either side of her, and she put her arms around their shoulders and hugged them to her gently. She rested her cheek on Merry's curls, and closed her eyes. She was thankful that, for the moment, the two hobbits were being uncharacteristically silent.

"How are you feeling, my lady?" Legolas questioned, and out of politeness, Alianor opened her eyes and glanced up at her dear friend.

"There is no ache from my wound, just an ache in my heart. Mithrandir was dear to me, as he was to many." She replied, and felt Pippin move closer to her at the mention of Gandalf, so she ran her hand up and down his little arm to comfort him.

Legolas nodded, a sad smile graced his face, which Alianor returned.

"What are they singing?" Pippin questioned.

"It's a lament for Gandalf." Legolas replied, his eyes travelling upwards to the elves that were singing in Mithrandir's honor.

"What do they say about him?" Merry asked, and Alianor could see the curiosity burning in his eyes, covering his sorrow.

"I have not the heart to tell you. For me, the grief is still too near." Legolas said, which caused Merry and Pippin to look towards Alianor in unison. She merely shook her head, rubbing their shoulders before climbing to her feet, ignoring Legolas as he hovered over her.

"I am fine, Legolas. _Havo dad,_ rest, my friends. Do not be troubled by this dark twist in our tale. It is not what Mithrandir would have wished." Alianor said, before she stepped slowly away from the Elven prince and the hobbits.

Boromir was sat alone on a large tree root, and Alianor took pity on him, and sat by his side. She didn't speak, just let her presence attempt to soothe whatever bothered him. Aragorn seemed to share her idea, as he strolled over towards the pair and tried to ease Boromir's mind.

"Take some rest. These borders are well protected." Aragorn said, as he looked over the land ahead of them.

"I will find no rest here," Boromir answered, only continuing when both Aragorn and Alianor had given him a confused look. Lothlorièn was a serene woodland, no evil was here, but what was brought into it by the Fellowship. "I heard her voice inside my head. She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor, and she said to me "Even now there is hope left", but I cannot see it. It is long since we had any hope."

Alianor took the Gondorian's hand in both of hers, and he blinked owlishly at her in surprise. He hadn't expected her kindness.

"There is always hope, Boromir. Even in the darkest of times, in the darkest of places, there is always a glimmer of light to push us forward." She whispered to him, as Aragorn sat down on the Steward Prince's other side. The man sniffed and looked between the two lovers who had taken it upon themselves to help him in his moment of despair.

"My father is a noble man, but his rule is failing and our-our people lose faith. He looks to me to make things right, and I would do it. I would see the glory of Gondor restored. Have you ever seen it, Aragorn? The White Tower of Ecthelion. Glimmering like a spike or pearl and silver. Its banners caught high in the morning breeze. Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?" Boromir questioned, turning his head away from Alianor to look at Aragorn. He had stared at her as he had painted such a beautiful picture of Gondor. She could remember the white tower, but his description made the memory feel real.

"I have seen the white city," Aragorn nodded, and Alianor saw the sad, wistful look in her lover's eyes. "A long time ago."

"One day, our paths will lead us there and the tower guards shall take up the call, "The Lords of Gondor have returned"." Boromir said, with a smile, and Alianor squeezed his hand, before she rose once more to her feet, deciding to leave the two men alone.

When she turned to walk back to her other companions, she saw her grandmother standing just out of sight of everyone, but her. Alianor slowly moved towards her, her companions readying themselves for bed and not paying her attention any longer, and Galadriel led her away into the forest. Alianor knew where her grandmother was taking her. It was where she always took her when Alianor visited the Golden Wood. The mirror.

Her grandmother always tried to improve Alianor's gift of foresight. It was something she had yet to perfect. Her visions came at infrequent intervals, and were rarely helpful. So with each visit, Galadriel would bring Alianor to the mirror, and they would see what Alianor could see. This time she was feeling confident, even in spite of her injury paining her, and as she followed her grandmother down the steps to the mirror's basin, she grinned.

"_Do not push yourself, young one. It takes time to develop such gifts and master them_." Galadriel said, mimicking herself from past attempts at improving Alianor's gift.

"_I know, grandmother_. _I understand that I need to slowly strengthen my mind in order to be open to the things that have yet to come to pass."_ Alianor replied, as she watched her grandmother fill the basin with water.

Once it was filled, her grandmother nodded at her, and Alianor stepped forward, her eyes dropping down to stare into the clear water. She emptied her mind of all thoughts, and breathed slow and deep. Once she was in a calm state, images started to appear in her mind and in the water. She did not like what she saw.

**Orcs. But not Orcs. They were a new breed of Orc, larger and stronger and possibly uglier than any she had seen. They marched through the woods, increasing speed, and it was clear that they had a mission and were determined to complete it. Next, she saw Boromir fighting these Orcs, valiantly, protecting Merry and Pippin. But it soon changed again, and Boromir lay slain on the ground, three arrows protruding from his chest, and Merry and Pippin were no were to be seen. Boromir struggled to breathe, and coughed his final breath, alone and in despair. The vision jumped again and she saw Merry and Pippin in the clutches of the strange Orcs. They had begun their march again, with the hobbits slung over a couple of the Orcs' backs. Merry's head was bleeding, and he was close to unconsciousness. Pippin looked terrified. Alianor's vision shifted once more, and she saw Frodo and Sam alone, clambering over rock and stone. It became clear to Alianor that the Fellowship was broken.**

Alianor tore her eyes away from the water, and turned them onto her grandmother. She knew that tears were rolling down her eyes, but she tried to ignore them as she stared at the only mother figure she had had since her mother was forced to watch her leave.

"_How do I stop this? Grandmother, there must be a way to prevent my vision from coming true!" _Alianor cried, as she stumbled forward into Galadriel's open arms. It was not the proper way to behave, but Alianor was a creature of emotion, and Galadriel had always encouraged her to be open with her feelings. At least towards her grandparents, and those who mattered.

"_You can only change the fate of one, not all. All that you saw will come to pass, but you must choose the path you will take and with whom you will take it."_ Galadriel replied, smoothing down her granddaughter's hair in a calming manner.

"_I do not understand, grandmother. What is it that I must do? Whatever it may be, I shall do it, if it stops that future from coming to pass." _Alianor sniffed, holding back more tears because she was ashamed of her outburst as it was, and pulled away from her grandmother, stepping back a couple of steps so she could see her elder better._  
_

"_Only you can decide what it is you must do to change the course of the future. Just know that someone's life is in your hands, my child. Go now and rest. You are still weary from your wound and grief."_

Alianor felt horrified, but nodded, turning away from her grandmother, and hurrying away from the mirror. She moved with haste back through the forest, not really paying much attention to her surroundings. So when she knocked into something, she instantly thrashed out with her fists as she didn't have a weapon on her person.

"Elbereth, it's me. Estel." Aragorn's soothing voice said, and Alianor stopped waving her fists around like a mad woman, and stared at him for a brief moment, before she calmed down and regained her sense of decorum.

"I apologise, _mela_. I am overcome with too many emotions and I have no notion as to how to deal with them. It is too much. The loss of Mithrandir, trying to understand the path I must take, experiencing a terrible vision, it's all too much." Alianor said, as Aragorn pulled her into his arms, and kissed her hair, attempting to comfort his lover in her time of need.

"What did you see?" He questioned, as he rested his chin on the crown of her head.

"A path was set before me, but I must choose which to take. But I'm afraid to choose, because it could mean losing someone dear to me and I am not sure I could survive if it were you." Alianor replied, burying her face into his shoulder so he couldn't see the tears that were forming in her eyes.

"You will not lose me, Alianor. You and I will never part ways, unless it's necessary."

"Do you promise that, my lord?" Alianor questioned, lifting her head to gaze into his eyes so she could see if he would lie to her or not. Aragorn was not habitually a liar, but he also did not make promises he could not keep.

"I vow that we shall not part unless the quest deems it necessary, my lady." Aragorn said, staring down at her with a look so honest and earnest that she had no choice but to take his word. He would stand by his vow, and would not break it unless he was given no other option, but then she would understand, if that were the case.

"I will hold you to that." Alianor said, gracing her lover with a small smile, before taking his hand, and allowing him to tug her forward.

"You need to rest. I will walk you back to your quarters, my lady." Aragorn said, before they reached the staircase that spiralled up the tree trunk of the royal houses.

Alianor smiled at his chivalry and allowed him to treat her like a damsel, his hand on her back in case she stumbled. He thought she was in a fragile state in both mind and body, and perhaps the first were true, but her body was as strong as it ever was, though, perhaps it was getting increasingly tired by overexerting herself so soon after she had recovered from her injury.

Aragorn ushered her into her rooms, and she stared at him. He had slept with her many times before, but he seemed hesitant to stay with her this night. She climbed into the bed, shifting so she was on one side of the purposefully large bed - she was sure her grandmother knew that at times Alianor could not rest without Aragorn by her side - and eyed him meaningfully.

"I should rest with the rest of the Fellowship." Aragorn said.

"Please, _mela, _do not make me beg you. That would bring me an abundance of shame and humiliation." Alianor replied, trying to manipulate the feeling of guilt in him, so he would bend to her wishes. Which he did. He took off his boots, and his weapons, and rested them all against one wall, before he climbed into the large bed.

Aragorn pulled Alianor into his side, and curled an arm over her body, and kissed her cheek.

"_Goodnight, my love."_ He whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickled her ear, and caused a shiver to travel down her spine.

_"Goodnight, my love."_ She replied back instantly, before she quickly drifted off to sleep, dreaming of Aragorn and a white tower.


	8. Lothlorièn Part Two

_Italics = elvish_

**Bold = flashbacks/visions**

The next day, Alianor was woken by some of the elf-maidens, who hurried her out of bed and helped her dress for the day. They tugged, pushed and pulled her into a light blue gown that seemed to make her eyes sparkle, and then braided two thin plaits at her temples and connected them at the back of her head. And then they placed her golden circlet on top of her head. It looked like a wreath of golden leaves atop her crown, depicting the leaves of the Golden Wood of Lothlorièn. She smiled when she saw it, for she had gotten used to seeing the silver circlet of Imladris upon her head, and it had been a long time since she had last visited her kin in Lorièn.

"May I ask why you were sent to wake me this morning?" Alianor questioned, as she slipped her feet into a pair of silvery-grey slippers.

"Yes, my lady. The Lord Aragorn requested that we did so. He said that he needed your assistance." One of the elf-maidens replied, and Alianor smiled again, as she rose to her feet.

"Well, I'd best not keep him waiting any longer." She said, with a smile, giving the maidens leave, before she left her rooms and quickly hurried down the spiral staircase to the ground. She grinned when she saw that the whole company was awake and moving about, and wondered why Aragorn had left her asleep so long.

Merry and Pippin noticed the lady of their company first, and both beamed at the smile that graced her face, before rushing towards her. She bent down to their height and held her arms out to them, and held them to her as they hugged her good morning.

"My lady, you seem in much better spirits today." Merry said, as she let them go.

"My heart still aches for the loss we all received, but sleep has refreshed my body and that is something to be pleased with." She replied, kissing their curls before moving towards Aragorn, who had been watching them with a warm smile. He saw the way Alianor was with them, like a doting mother with her children, and wondered whether they would ever get to have their own children. He managed to shake those thoughts away as she approached him.

"Why did you let me sleep so late, when it is clear you have all been up for at least a couple of hours?" She asked, stopping just beside him. She raised a brow at him, showing she was curious and waiting for his reply.

"You needed the rest more so than the rest of us. With your wound and your refusal to sleep throughout our stops in Moria, your body needed rest," Aragorn said, with a disapproving look. He would forever despise how his love always put others before herself, even though he loved that increasingly annoying trait at the same time. She never thought of her own well being when it came to those she loved. "But now I need your assistance. I have to discuss our journey with the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, and Boromir will need aid with teaching the halflings how to defend themselves."

"And you wish for me to help him in your stead? Consider it done, _mela_." She replied, with a smile and was about to turn away and collect her sword from her room, but Aragorn caught her hand, and pulled her back to him. He quickly pressed his lips to hers, just briefly as there were others around, and smiled down at her when he pulled away.

"Do not push yourself, Elbereth. Your wound is still healing." He warned her, before kissing her again and then taking his leave. Alianor resisted the urge to roll her eyes over his fretting, and hurried to collect her sword.

When she returned, Boromir had already begun the hobbits' training, though Frodo and Sam were sat at the side watching. She knew that Frodo's main concern was carrying the burden of the Ring and resisting its evil, but Alianor would not stand it if he was hurt again because he could not defend himself.

She strode towards the two hobbits, who were sat on the sidelines, and they watched her approach.

"Don't think, dear ones, that the enemy will let you two sit on the sidelines if a fight occurs. Come on," She said, urging them to stand, and then she noticed they didn't even have their swords by their sides. "Fetch your swords. You'll practice with me."

Frodo didn't seem keen on the idea, but Sam quickly got their weapons, handing Frodo 'Sting' and attempted a battle stance. Alianor smiled at the stout hobbit's eagerness, but moved towards him to correct his stance. She nudged his feet slightly closer together, and showed him a different way to grip his sword.

"Very good, Master Gamgee. Now you are ready to engage in a sword fight," She smiled at him, and Sam blushed slightly under her praise. He wasn't used to receiving compliments from a beautiful woman...or any woman at all really. Alianor then turned to Frodo, who was simply watching his two friends with interest. "Now, now, Master Baggins, that stance simply won't do!"

Alianor teased Frodo, and he managed to smile for her, and he looked at Sam's stance and mimicked it, happy when it brought a grin to Alianor's face. She had felt Gandalf's loss just as greatly as he had, and he was sure that she understood his misery.

"That is much better. Now, show me your swing."

Frodo and Sam both performed a basic swipe with their swords, and Alianor grinned, impressed. They weren't as bad as she thought they would be. Most boys in the Dunedain tribes would start being taught how to wield a sword quite young. Alianor remembered being jealous of her brothers as they learnt to fight, while her mother taught her how to sew. Silas and Haelan, her elder brothers, would teach her in secret how to use a sword, and a bow, after they had been taught and thought she was old enough to learn. She had had to beg first, of course, because Silas and Haelan were hesitant to disobey their father.

**"Haelan! Please! Just teach me how to wield a blade, please! I just want to learn to defend myself." Alianor begged her eldest brother, though he was only three years older than her. Silas was seven years older than her, and her younger brother, Duryn, was five years younger than her.**

**Haelan sighed at her begging, and shook his blonde head at her, as she clung to his waist. She was barely ten, and already wanted to be taught how to fight. He knew that if he didn't put up a fight, his father would be more than furious at him for disobeying him, but if, at first, he refused then at least he can say he tried to refuse her, but he never could really. He never could say no to his baby sister.**

**"Father would skin me alive if I taught you, Alianor!" Haelan whispered loudly at her, trying to pry her away, but each time he got free, his sister reattached herself to him like a leech.**

**"I already asked Silas, but he said no. Please, Haelan, you'll be my favourite brother! Just teach me how to fight!" Alianor whined, as she tugged on his tunic.**

**Haelan looked down at his sister, who was doing her best imitation of a doe's large eyes and was pouting, and sighed in defeat. She instantly grinned, knowing that she had won, and clapped her small hands together in glee, before launching herself at him in a happy embrace.**

**"Thank you, _toror'_. Can we start now?"**

Alianor smiled at the memory of her brother, one that was tinged with sadness, and if Frodo or Sam noticed, they didn't speak of it.

"Right, that was very good, dear ones. Now let's try a block. I'll try to deliver a blow to your side and you block it."

Frodo and Sam nodded, and waited. Alianor took her time, before she swung at Frodo, and he deftly blocked her attack. She smiled at him, encouragingly, before taking another swing at him, and then Sam. They both managed to block her attacks, and she grinned.

"Very good. Now, I shall teach you a few rules. Never act, always react, but keep in mind there is an exception to every rule. To win a battle with a foe, one must always be watching one's opponent…"

Alianor, Frodo and Sam spent a couple of hours training, before she let them rest. Frodo's shoulder wound from the wraith attack on Weathertop had started to bother him, so she stopped their practice.

The days seemed to blur into one, and before long they had spent a few days in Lothlorièn, recovering from their time in Moria, grieving for Gandalf, and waiting for a new plan of action to be made. Aragorn was their new leader. Gandalf had appointed him, and Alianor knew that Aragorn would not steer them wrong. Alianor's wound was now healed completely thanks to the healing power of the elves, and she was itching to continue their quest.

While Aragorn, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn planned their new course of action, Legolas and Alianor tried to teach the Hobbits how to use a bow. They borrowed some of the smaller bows that were used to teach the elven children archery, and tried to teach them, but none of them showed a real aptitude for it. So they decided to increase their skills with their blades, with the help of Boromir and Gimli. Merry, in particular, showed real skill with his short sword and it pleased Alianor to see Merry so proud of himself when he managed to block a complicated attack.

But soon Aragorn told them to prepare their things as they were ready to leave. Her grandmother would give them boats and they'd sail up the river, until they reached the Emyn Muil. Then the Fellowship would cross the Entwash, and from there their path was undecided.

But before they could leave, the Lady Galadriel insisted on giving the company gifts. No doubt the Elf Lady had seen that they would need them in future and had quickly gathered them together. They had packed all of their belongings into the boats. The elves had given them extra rations, grey elvish cloaks and the like to last their journey wherever it should take them, and now the remaining nine members of the Fellowship were standing side by side, as the Lady of the Wood gave them their parting gifts.

"My gift for you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadhrim, worthy of the skill of our woodland kin." She said, as one of the elf wardens handed Legolas the beautiful, light bow, and Legolas tested the bow's strength and durability by seeing how tight the string could be pulled.

Next, Galadriel had an elf warden hand Merry and Pippin two small daggers. When she described what they were and that they had already seen service in war, Pippin went white as a sheet, and Alianor want to go to him and hold him, but she resisted her maternal urges.

"Do not fear, young Peregin Took, you will find your courage." Galadriel assured him, before she moved on to Boromir.

The Lady of the Wood did not have many words to say to the Son of Gondor, but to wish him luck on his journey, and to hand him a belt wrought of gold leaves. He accepted it hesitantly, and seem to shrink away from the woman in white. And then Alianor's grandmother moved to Sam, who stared shyly up at her.

"And to you, Samwise Gamgee, elven rope made of heathline." Galadriel smiled down at the hobbit, as he took the silvery, elven rope from her hands, and practically cradled the gift to his chest.

"Thank you, my lady, have you got another one of those nice, shiny daggers?" Sam questioned, to which Galadriel just smiled and moved on to Gimli, having no real gift for him.

"And what gift would a Dwarf ask of the Elves?" Galadriel asked, gazing down upon the dwarf, who seemed very intent on staring at the dirt beneath his boots. Alianor smiled at this. She knew that her grandmother had bewitched Gimli, like she had many others who had come into her domain.

"Nothing. Except to look upon the Lady of the Galadhrim one last time. For she is more fair than all the jewels beneath the earth," Gimli said, his usual gruffness missing from his voice, as he finally looked upon the Lady of the Wood. Galadriel laughed with pleasure at Gimli's kind words, but waited, for she knew that the Dwarf would actually request a gift from her. "Actually - there was one thing, er, but it is stupid to even ask. Perhaps, you would gift me with a single strand of your hair, which surpasses the gold of the earth as the stars surpass the gems of the mine."

Galadriel smiled kindly at him, and waved forward one of the elf wardens, and asked for his knife. He quickly handed it to her, though confused, and watched as his Lady cut not one, but three strands of her golden hair from her head, and gifted it to the Dwarf, who stared at the three strands as though it was the greatest treasure.

"Thank you, my lady." Gimli murmured, before turning and walking away quickly, the tops of his ears burning red with embarrassment.

Then Galadriel turned to her granddaughter, who smiled at her elder with sadness as they were soon to part again. Galadriel reached up and stroked her grandchild's cheek with such tenderness that it would have broken the hearts of all who beheld the scene.

"And to you, Alianor Evenstar, I give to you this healing elixir, made with the tears of your namesake, Elbereth, one of the Valar, and blessed water from Valinor. It is the strongest known to the mortal world of Men, and will stop death if administered quickly enough. There is only enough to save one, so choose wisely, Lady of Imladris, Lothlorièn and the North." Galadriel handed Alianor a small crystal phial, which held within it a shimmering white liquid that seemed to shine in the light like silver. Alianor bowed her head to her grandmother, and thanked her quietly, before strolling over to the boats to place the vial in her pack.

Frodo received his gift next, though Alianor did not hear the words that her grandmother said to him, because she was simply not listening at the time, but then she saw her grandmother approach Aragorn.

When Aragorn received his gift the rest of the Fellowship were by the boats, waiting, but, fortunately for Alianor, her elven hearing easily picked up the conversation.

"I have nothing greater to give than the gift you already bear. _For her love, I fear the grace of Alianor Evenstar will vanish." _Alianor listened to her grandmother say to her love, and felt tears prick in her eyes. She did not care that she could possibly fade. As long as she could live with Aragorn, and live long enough to see him become King, then she would happily die, happy and fulfilled.

"_I would have her leave these shores, and be with her people. I would have her take the ship to Valinor, but she is too stubborn to do what is best for her." _Aragorn replied, and Alianor felt a tear fall and roll down her cheek. Legolas saw, and rested his arm on her shoulder, and she knew he had been listening to Aragorn and her grandmother's conversation. She smiled up at him, trying to appear as though she hadn't heard anything.

"That choice is yet before her," Lady Galadriel said, and Alianor tensed. She would not take the ships to Valinor. That was not her path, and she would not ever willingly walk that path as long as Aragorn lived. And her grandmother knew that, so why would she tell Aragorn that she had yet to make that choice. "You have your own choice to make, Aragorn. To rise above the height of all your fathers since the days of Elendil, or to fall into darkness with all that is left of your kin."

Alianor could almost feel the weight that her grandmother had placed onto Aragorn's all ready burdened shoulders. Every moment since she had known Aragorn and his past and his future, she had tried to bear his burdens with him, but this one had always been too great for the both of them.

"_Farewell. There is much you have yet to do. We shall not meet again. Elessar."_

This forced Alianor to glance over at her grandmother in confusion. Why would she not see Aragorn again? What did that mean for her? Would she see her grandmother again? Alianor walked towards the pair, and Aragorn heard her approach, and said his goodbyes to the Lady Galadriel, and left the two women alone.

_"You have many questions, dear one, but I cannot answer them all. I promise that should this darkness fall, we will meet once more. You will try to veer from your path, and I, as one who loves you, will help you return to it. You are one of my greatest joys in this world, my child, and I wish you nothing but happiness in the days that have not yet come to pass. Farewell, dear one." _Galadriel pressed a gentle kiss against Alianor's dark curls that were once again pulled back into a long braid, and then held Alianor's face in her hands.

Tears rolled down Alianor's cheeks and her grandmother brushed them away with her long, pale fingers, before moving away as Celeborn walked towards his granddaughter with his own farewell. Galadriel stood off slightly to the side, waiting for her husband to say goodbye to their only granddaughter. He smiled at her, and pulled her into the circle of his arms, kissing her head. The hobbits and Boromir watched the exchange with interest, not knowing their female companion's ties to the elvish royalty. Celeborn moved back slightly, though he kept his hands on Alianor's shoulders as though he was trying to memorize her face so he could not ever forget.

"_My beautiful granddaughter, I pray to Valar that your journey will end quickly and safely, and that we shall meet again under the trees of Lorièn. I am proud of you, my little warrior. Stay safe, and may the will of the Valar be with you. Farewell, my child." _Celeborn said, kissing both of Alianor's cheeks, and then her forehead, before pulling her into another embrace. Alianor held him tight, sending her own prayer to the Valar that she would see her family again. She pulled away, and stood in front of her grandparents, who smiled proudly at her.

"_Farewell, grandmother, grandfather. It is my wish that our paths may cross again one day, should I survive this journey, and that our reunion will be one of peace and love." _Alianor said, smiling sadly at her wise and beloved elders, with a hand pressed over her heart, an action both her grandparents mimicked.

With a heavy heart, she turned away and moved towards her company, ignoring the questioning looks of her young hobbit friends. She merely pulled on the new elvish cloak that had been given to her, cinching it with the Lothlorièn leaf brooch, and strapped her weapons to her side. When she reached to grab her quiver from where it rested in one of the boats, a hand reached past her and picked it up. She turned around, and Haldir held it in his grasp, a smile on his face.

"_Surely, you planned on saying goodbye to an old friend, my Lady?"_ He teased her, helping her pull the quiver onto her back. She had restocked on arrows from the armory, and the green fletching of Lorièn mixed with the pale blue of Imladris.

"_I would not dare, Haldir. I pray to the Valar that this is not our last meeting."_ Alianor replied, resting her right hand on his right shoulder, and he mimicked her action with his left hand on her left shoulder. It was an Elvish gesture between friends or comrades.

"_I shall pray for that also. Good luck on your quest, my friend."_

"_Thank you. May the Valar bless you, Haldir."_

_"And you."_

And then they broke apart, smiling at each other, and Haldir moved back behind his Lord and Lady, waiting for the Fellowship to depart before he went back to his post.

Aragorn stepped towards Alianor, holding out a hand to her, and, once she had taken it, he helped her into the boat where Gimli and Legolas were already seated. Legolas would paddle the boat, with Alianor seated between him and their dwarven friend.

As Legolas pushed the boat forwards, Alianor looked back again at her grandmother, who smiled at her. Alianor pressed her fingers to her mouth, and then rest her hand into the air as a parting gesture, one that she had performed at many partings from her grandparents. Galadriel copied the gesture, and Alianor felt tears build in her eyes as she watched her kin disappear into the distance.

Despite the heaviness of her heart, Alianor found herself smiling as Gimli and Legolas conversed. Gimli was still bewitched by her grandmother and was dreamily telling Legolas how the enchanting Lady Galadriel had given him three of the golden hairs on her head.

All of the Fellowship, upon leaving Lothlorièn, were at varying stages of peace, but little did they know, that as they sailed down the river Anduin, they came closer to having their renewed peace shattered, and their Fellowship broken.


	9. The Breaking of the Fellowship

**Bold = Dreams/Memories/Flashbacks**

_Italics = Elvish_

_And the story begins again..._

**"Leave now, Alianor. You are not a part of this family, nor are you my daughter."**

**Alianor's heart beat loudly in her chest, and she felt sick to her stomach. How could this be happening? Why didn't her father understand her reasons for wanting to be the warrior instead of the housemaid? That she wanted to protect her family from the terrible things she had seen in her head. Why couldn't he see that?**

**Estel bristled behind her, but Alianor raised her hand and stopped him from storming forward to punch her father.**

**"You-You don't mean that, ada." Alianor said, tears streaming down her face.**

**"Yes, I do. You have brought shame upon me and this family." Her father snarled, and Alianor choked back a sob before she protested his words.**

**"How? By choosing to follow my own path? Trying to fight for the honour and protection of our people? Why does the idea of a woman fighting for her family offend you so? Why does the idea of your daughter loving a noble man who encourages her dreams fill you with so much hate?" She questioned, yelling at him, moving forward towards him, not expecting his attack.**

**She bared the brunt of his fist to her face, and merely cradled her face with her hands, staring up at him as she spat out the blood from her mouth. Instead of attacking his lover's father like he so badly wanted to, he moved towards her and pulled her into his arms, glaring at the man in front of him. **

**Alianor straightened her body, and gently edged out of Estel's hold, and faced her father once more, simply wiping her blood onto the back of her hand.**

**"How many more of your children must you lose before you are satisfied?" She questioned quietly, finding strength within herself to say the next words. "From this day forward, I do not know you. From this day forward, I disown you."**

**"You insolent child. Leave this house and never return. Go. Now." Her father spat angrily, and she raised her chin in defiance.**

**"I will leave, but there will come a day when those who remain here leave you and you will die bitter and alone because of your aged beliefs. May the Valar have mercy on you."**

**Her father's eyes blazed with a fiery anger and he raised his fist again.**

And then Alianor woke up.

Tears streamed down her face, which, unfortunately, she couldn't hide before one of her companions noticed that she was awake and crying. They had taken to the shore to make camp for the night, and Alianor had fallen asleep at Aragorn's request.

"Lady Alianor! What is the matter?" Boromir questioned, which drew the attentions of those who were awake around him. Soon Aragorn, Legolas, Frodo and Boromir were staring at her inquisitively, and she laughed weakly, attempting to put their fears to rest.

"Nothing, Steward Prince, is wrong, not anymore," Alianor said, wiping her eyes with her sleeve as she stood. She walked slightly further into the tree line, and sat down out of sight. She had enough trouble with appearing weak simply by being a woman. She did not need to add being emotional to the mix.

Soft footfalls padded towards her, but she was unable to tell whether it was Legolas or a hobbit. When the person sat down beside her, she saw a dark curly head out of the corner of her eye. Frodo stared at her until she finally looked at him, and he saw pain in her eyes. Pain and loss. Alianor wrapped her arm around Frodo's shoulder and rested her cheek against his soft hair.

"What did you dream of, Lady Alianor?" Frodo questioned quietly, aware that Legolas could hear them.

"I dreamt of my family in the North. My father. He is a Captain of the Northern Rangers," Alianor whispered in reply, her father's stern face in her mind. "And it is just plain Alianor to you, dear Frodo. We are friends."

"I thought the Lord Elrond was your father?" Frodo asked, confused.

"Lord Elrond is my uncle. My father banished me from our village when I was much younger because I did not wish to be a bored house wife, caring for children and tending to a husband who would get called to war and would die valiantly in battle," Alianor answered, comfortable with telling Frodo her story. He might not understand it completely, but with the burden of the Ring, he knew what it was like to be alone. "I wished to protect my people, to fight for my family and love, but my father did not like that. He thought it was a woman's place to serve her husband and keep a clean home. He banished me and Aragorn took me to my kinsmen in Lothlorièn and Rivendell. Lord Elrond has been my father ever since, at least in our eyes."

Alianor smiled down at the hobbit, and ran her fingers through his dark locks affectionately, and, not for the first time, it made Frodo question how the woman could be so nice to him, since it was his fault that she came to constant injury. On Weathertop, she had been protecting him when he distracted her when she was battling five wraiths alone. In Moria, she was fighting to get to his aid when she had been stabbed because he had yet again distracted her from her surroundings. It seemed that while she was in his company, she would only come to harm.

"Why are you so nice to me, Alianor? Since we met, I've only gotten you hurt." Frodo said, quietly, his eyes cast down to the ground, but his head snapped up again when he heard Alianor chuckle.

"You silly hobbit! I have sustained many injuries before we met. Do not blame yourself," Alianor smiled at him, and there was nothing in her expression that told Frodo she was lying or that she was concealing her true feelings. "And I am nice to you because you are a kind, gentle soul, Frodo, and as innocent as can be. I love all that is good in this world, dear one. You also remind me of my younger brother, Hadrian. He was innocent, kind, gentle and loving as well. Not to mention his dark curls."

"You said 'was'. What happened to him?" Frodo questioned, and he instantly noticed the change in Alianor's expression. Her face went stoic and dark, and she seemed to withdraw inside herself.

"He was killed in a battle he was too young, too inexperienced to have fought in. He was just a boy. Just a boy," Alianor took a deep breath, and sighed. "And it was because of him that I did not want you or your kin to come on this journey, though I had already foreseen it."

"Why?"

"I could not bear it if I could not save you, Frodo, like I failed to do so with Hadrian. It was my duty to look after him, but I failed. It would break my heart if you fell to darkness like he did. It is part of the reason I am here on this quest," The half-elf, half-human woman said truthfully, and Frodo realised just how caring to strangers Alianor was. Bilbo had told Frodo of his first encounter with Alianor, how she had charmed not only him, but his thirteen dwarves companions with her kindness and her smile. How she went hunting for the dwarves because she had foreseen that they would not appreciate the vegetarian life style that the elves lived by. How she had told Bilbo that he would find his place amongst the dwarves, and how he would find his courage. "You are fated for great things, Frodo Baggins, and you will always have help through the dark. You won't ever be alone. Remember that, dear one."

"The Lady Galadriel said that to bear a ring of power is to be alone." Frodo replied, and Alianor smiled slightly. Her grandmother was right in a sense, but she knew that she had foreseen the same future that Alianor had seen pieces of.

"That is true, but only with time will you understand what she truly meant," Alianor kissed his the top of Frodo's head, and stood, pulling Frodo up behind her and pulled him back to their makeshift camp. Aragorn's eyes followed her. Clearly Legolas had been sharing her and Frodo's conversation with him as concern was in his eyes. "Get some rest, Frodo. In fact, all of you rest. I will take over watch."

Boromir nodded his thanks, and Frodo eyed her before going back to his spread on the ground, and laying there. Aragorn and Legolas stayed awake with her though, but neither asked her any questions or offered any comforting words. They knew she would not accept them. She showed a vulnerable side to Frodo, in order to show him that he was not alone, but she would not do it twice in one night. That would be expecting too much from her. Reliving past heartbreaks could only be done in quick, bitter doses. So instead of pushing her on the matter, Aragorn quite wisely elected to simply sit by her side, press a kiss to her dark hair, and stay silent.

Alianor watched the water from where she sat, her eyes sometimes scanning the opposite shore. She knew Legolas was doing the same to the trees behind them, so she did not worry too much about turning around often to inspect the woods on the shore they had made camp on. The three friends sat in silence, until, apparently, the male elf amongst them let his curiosity burn all too brightly within.

_"Why did you tell Frodo about Hadrian?_" Legolas questioned in Elvish, and Alianor looked over at him, with a dry smile on her face.

"_He wanted to know and I wanted him to know that he is not alone. If he ever believes that he is, I hope he'll remember my words and realise that no one is ever truly alone_," Alianor replied, before switching back to the Common Tongue. "Frodo is our only hope, but no one can bear the burden of the ring alone. He will always have company. Who that may be I have not seen, but perhaps we do not need visions to guess as to who it may be."

"Does this mean that you have foreseen the breaking of the Fellowship?" Aragorn asked, and there was concern in his voice that was unmistakable and Alianor instantly felt the need to dispel his worries quickly.

"It means I have foreseen one possible future, my love. My visions are not clear or certain, you know this." Alianor said, sighing quickly, before taking his hand in hers and lifting it to her mouth to place a gentle kiss against the toil-hardened skin of his palm.

Aragorn smiled and pulled her closer to him, now that most prying eyes were asleep, and guided her head to his shoulder, and wrapped an arm around her waist.

And they stayed this way until daybreak, though Aragorn had fallen asleep against the tree they had leaned on. Alianor shook him awake as soon as the light hit them, and then helped Legolas rouse the rest of their companions.

They ate a quick, light breakfast and refilled their water skins, before all clambering back into their boats.

Alianor was kept entertained by Gimli and stories of Erebor, the Dwarven kingdom under the Lonely Mountain, and Legolas and his tales of what was new in the kingdom of Mirkwood. Alianor listened closely to her two friends, fascinated by their accounts from their homelands, and retold some of her stories from Lothlorien and Imladris.

Yet as they sailed further down the river, unease spread through the warriors of the Fellowship, especially within their elven counterparts. Alianor and Legolas would often exchange worried glances after gazing at into the forest on either side of them; Legolas would paddle faster when he saw Alianor's body stiffen. But soon they left the forests behind for a while and faced rock on each side and Alianor saw something which she had always yearned to.

"The Argonath," She whispered reverently, her eyes staring in absolute awe at the tall stone statues of Aragorn's kin. "Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old."

"You and Aragorn are becoming almost too alike, mellonin," Legolas said, and Alianor turned her head to give him a confused look. "Did you not hear him utter exactly those words you just spoke?"

"Nay, I admit that I was too absorbed in marvelling at Aragorn's kin to pay much heed to his words." Alianor grinned, and turned back around, soaking in the images of the Argonath as they sailed right by them.

They did not stop rowing down the Anduin until the mid-afternoon, and the Argonath looked slightly smaller if Alianor turned her head back to catch a glimpse of them. Legolas followed Aragorn as they pulled the boats up to the western shore, and quickly climbed out before Alianor to help her out. She arched an eyebrow at him in response, but took his outstretched hand, knowing he didn't see her as a weak, feeble woman, but simply a Lady, and was being respectful.

Alianor gathered small twigs and branches from the tree line and some bracken and quickly set up a fire, while the others set up their spots in their makeshift camp. Aragorn unloaded the boats, and revealed the next stage of their journey.

"We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the North." Aragorn said, as he dropped his belongings to the floor by his feet, by Alianor's pack and spread.

"Oh, yes?" Gimli asked, and Alianor knew he was going to poke holes in Aragorn's plans, and that Aragorn would be none too appreciative. "Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil…an impassable labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks. And after that, it gets even better…"

Alianor saw the worry on Pippin's face and smiled at him, trying to reassure him that things would be fine, but then Alianor turned her head the other way and saw Legolas staring into the forest. She stood, and moved to his side, now sensing the same unease and dread he did.

"Something approaches." She muttered to the elven prince in Sindarin.

"And quickly. We should not stay here." Legolas said, as they both stepped towards Aragorn, now finished with his conversation with the dwarf amongst their company, and shared their dread.

"We should leave now." Legolas instructed their leader.

"No. Orcs patrol the eastern shore…"

That was when Alianor noticed that Frodo was gone. Her eyes scanned their camp, in case she had overlooked him, but noticed that Boromir too was missing. She sensed that something terrible was to come, and she remembered her grandmother's teachings from when she was a girl.

"Sometimes, dear one, you can make the visions appear yourself. But you must concentrate, and breathe deep. Focus, dear girl." Her grandmother whispered to her in her mind, all in Elvish, and Alianor did as she was told.

Alianor closed her eyes, and breathed deeply, and cleared her mind. And it came to her. She knew where the two had gone and what would transpire between them, but just as the brief vision ended, another came with swift speed.

**Boromir fought against many orcs to protect Merry and Pippin, who stood just out of the way with their eyes wide and fear on their faces, and was fighting valiantly, before he was struck with an arrow. Yet one arrow could not stop the Gondorian, not with his friends in danger, so he pushed himself back onto his feet and began the fight again…until the second arrow pierced through his chain mail.**

**Again, he climbed to his feet, slower this time and less sure of his footing, and fought of those he could, but the third arrow forced him to his knees and he knew he had failed.**

Alianor opened her eyes with a gasp, that did not escape the hearing of both Legolas and Aragorn, who were immediately at her side.

"What did you see?" Aragorn questioned.

"We must get to Boromir and Frodo." She whispered, a single tear rolling down her cheek, before she raced off into the woods, not waiting for the men to follow her lead.

The forest floor was uneven and many obstacles were scattered on the ground, but Alianor was used to maneuvering around this type of terrain and she seemed to dance around the trees and ghost over the fallen logs in her way as she bolted to the area in her vision, but Boromir and Frodo were already gone.

Yet she felt an evil presence nearby, and knew it could only be the Ring, as it was horribly familiar. So she let herself gravitate towards it, and found Aragorn kneeling before Frodo, the hobbit's small hands in his. She jogged towards them, and noticed the glow of Frodo's sword. Aragorn noticed it too, and pushed himself onto his feet, and away from the hobbit, drawing his sword. Alianor moved to draw her own weapon, but Aragorn stopped her.

"Make sure he is safe," Aragorn whispered, and she nodded, moving towards Frodo. "Go! Run. Run!"

Alianor pushed Frodo forward, and glanced back at Aragorn, who was walking towards the Orcs that had followed them, but she quickly ran after the hobbit, determined to fulfill her oath to him and protect him with her life.

They ran together through the forest, with orcs on their trail, and, at one point, took cover behind a tree, waiting for the Orcs to run past.

"Frodo! Lady Alianor!" Merry's voice caught their attention and the pair looked to their left, not daring to reply in case they were caught. Merry and Pippin were hidden within a bush just opposite them.

"Hide here. Quick!" Pippin instructed, as Merry gestured for them to move furiously. Alianor looked down at Frodo, and he shook his head. She frowned, but knew what had to happen. She had seen him in a boat alone, paddling towards the eastern shore. "Come on!"

"What's he doing?" Alianor heard Pippin question Merry.

"He's leaving." And in that moment, Alianor knew that Merry was much more intelligent and perceptive than even she had guessed.

"No!" Pippin almost growled, surprising Alianor, but surprising her even more by foolishly abandoning his hiding place, and stepping into the full view of any Uruk-hai that was nearby.

"Pippin!" She scolded, moving out from behind the tree she and Frodo had taken shelter behind, nodding at Frodo. She knew she could not be the one to follow him. She understood that, and let him make his choice. Merry followed his friend out into the open, as well, and they stared at the Orcs that were heading in Frodo's direction.

Alianor looked down at the two hobbits and they all exchanged a glance, before she whistled loudly to gain their enemy's attention.

"Run, Frodo. Go on!" Merry ordered, before he pointed in the direction of the Uruk-hai, and called to them. "Hey! Hey, you!"

"Over here!"

"Over here!" Alianor encouraged, and pushed the two hobbits in front of her and got them to start running. She called to her enemy one last time before she followed her two companions, not looking back to check on Frodo. He would be safe as long as she, Merry and Pippin kept the focus on them.

"It's working!" Pippin said, pausing slightly to look at the Uruks following them.

"I know it's working! Run!" Merry shouted at him, forcing his best friend to move. Alianor pulled out her bow and took out a couple of Uruks on her tail, but kept running after the hobbits. She did not like running away, but she needed to keep the hobbits safe.

They darted across a small bridge, and Alianor nearly ran into Merry and Pippin, who had stopped as the Uruks had them surrounded. Alianor began to shoot them with her elvish arrows, before they got too close, and exchanged it for her sword. Yet as she raised her sword to decapitate an incoming Uruk-hai wielding an axe, Boromir jumped in her way and took the glorified orc out himself.

And from that moment on, Alianor and Boromir quickly became a team, taking out orc after orc, slashing and swiping, ducking under blows and slicing off limbs. On occasion, Boromir would blow the horn of Gondor so they could receive aid from Aragorn and the others. They were unstoppable, until Alianor moved slightly away from Boromir to defend Pippin from a harsh blow by an axe.

Boromir was not expecting it when the arrow sunk into his shoulder, and he gasped in surprise. Alianor almost froze in horror, before she spotted his attacker. She went to sheath her sword, but an Uruk swiped at her, causing her too almost bend over backwards to avoid losing her head. She cut off its arm, and then removed its head quickly, but Boromir, who had gone on fighting regardless of his pain, had been shot with another arrow which pierced through his chain mail and into his stomach. Alianor felt tears prick her eyes, but she had no choice but to go on fighting with her sword when they were being overrun.

Boromir dropped to his knees, and stared at the hobbits for a moment.

"Run! Merry, Pippin, run!" Alianor shouted at them, but they were frozen in place. They could not believe that Boromir had been impaled by two arrows. He was a fine warrior, so how could he possibly get injured?

Boromir rose to his feet, intent on using the last of his strength to kill more orcs. Alianor was busy dodging the attacks of three orcs, when she heard the third arrow whiz through the air and sink into Boromir's flesh. She decapitated one, and then stabbed the remaining two at the same time, before she turned to see Boromir on his knees. Merry and Pippin bellowed out battle cries, and ran towards the orcs, before Alianor could stop them, and were quickly swept away, grabbed by two orcs and carried away kicking and screaming for Boromir and Alianor.

"Don't leave him, my Lady!" Was the last thing that she heard from Merry before he disappeared from sight.

She knew that they would be able to help Merry and Pippin, if only she could save Boromir now. As the Uruk's had what they came for, they found little interest in the elf-maiden, which made her able to get to Boromir, as the leader of the Uruk-hai stood, arrow strung and bow-string taught, preparing to finish the Son of Gondor off.

Luckily Aragorn tackled the orc to the ground before he could let the arrow fly, and Alianor rushed to Boromir's side as her lover fought his attacker. Boromir was breathing quick, short, sharp breaths, his face contorting in pain with each intake of air. Alianor eased him down onto his back, whispering comforting words to him as tears streamed down her face. She went to remove one of the arrows, but Boromir grabbed her hand and gripped it tight in his own.

"Leave them." He told her, and Alianor shook her head.

"I have to take them out if the wounds are to heal," Alianor said, trying to wrench her hand back so she could either pull the arrows out or push them through. But she paused as she caught the look on the injured man's face, and knew that he was giving up. "Don't you dare! You cannot give up hope."

"It is my time, my Lady. There is no hope for me."

"No, there is always hope," Alianor hissed at him, and he was surprised by the fire that was in her eyes. "Our journey will lead us to Gondor, and they will take up the call that the King and his Steward have returned to Gondor. And once the war is over, and we have settled, you are to show me all the wonders of your home. And I will help you find yourself a woman, someone respectable and kind with a grace and beauty that she would pass down to your children. And you will die an old man in your bed. But not here. Not now. Not if I have anything to say about it."

"I feel cold, my Lady, there is nothing you can do for me that will save me." Boromir replied, and it was though Alianor had suddenly seen the light.

She reached into the pocket of her tunic, and pulled out the glass vial that her grandmother had given to her. Sometime during the second leg of their boat journey, Alianor had removed the vial from her pack and placed it in her pocket. She had not known why, but she had felt like she would need it.

She knew that she could not remove the arrows from Boromir's body alone, she would need someone to hold him steady so his body did not spasm too badly. She looked towards Aragorn, and watched as he decapitated the large Uruk.

"_Mela_! I need you!" She called to him, before she tried to hush Boromir.

Aragorn rushed over to them, kneeling on Boromir's right side with Alianor on his left, and stared down at Boromir, who began to ramble.

"They took the little ones." He informed his leader, and Alianor nodded.

"Hold still." Aragorn instructed him, but Boromir paid no heed to the Ranger's words. He carried on talking.

"Frodo. Where is Frodo?"

"I let Frodo go."

"Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the Ring from him." Boromir said, and Alianor could see the colour in the Gondorian's cheeks fading.

"The Ring is beyond our reach now." Aragorn assured him, and Boromir finally let go of Alianor's hand and used his own to grip Aragorn's shoulder.

"Forgive me. I did not see it. I have failed you all." Boromir replied, hissing in pain, his face contorting in pain once more.

"No, Boromir, you fought bravely. You have kept your honour." Aragorn said, as he went to remove one of the arrows, but Boromir smacked his hand away.

"Leave it! It is over. The world of Men will fall. And all will come to darkness…and my city to ruin." Boromir lamented.

"I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you, I will not let the White City fall nor our people fail." Aragorn vowed, and Alianor could see the king within him appear again, but she shook her head, and quickly spoke before either of them could drown her out again.

"_Mela, I can save him, but we need to remove the arrows._" Alianor whispered to Aragorn in Elvish, so that Boromir could not protest.

"We can save you, Boromir. You fought bravely, but it is not your time to die," Aragorn said, and he lifted Boromir's upper body up so he was sitting, and Alianor braced her hands against the arrow in his shoulder. "We just need to push the arrows through, and then Alianor can heal you."

"This is beyond the healing powers of the Elves, and we all know it." Boromir snapped, but both Alianor and Aragorn let it go.

"But not beyond the healing powers of the Valar," Alianor replied, reaching beside her and finding a thick twig. She handed it to Aragorn. "Put this in his mouth above his tongue. We don't want him biting it off."

Aragorn did as she instructed, and then held Boromir still as Alianor worked on pushing the first arrow through. Boromir groaned loudly in pain, the sound muffled slightly by the twig, but Alianor ignored his screams. She had no choice. In order to save him, she had to cause him pain. There was no other way. Once the arrow was out, she tossed it aside, and moved to the next. Each one caused Boromir to convulse, but Aragorn used his great strength to stop the Gondorian from moving too much. And then it was over, and Boromir was very weak. He was fading very quickly now, with the immense loss of blood, so Alianor had to act swiftly.

Alianor uncorked the vial with her teeth, spitting the cork away, and opened Boromir's mouth, and tipping the silvery contents down his throat.

At first, it appeared that nothing had happened, and Alianor began to cry as Boromir's eyes fluttered close. She had failed him. She had failed them all. But before she could cry out in anguish, Boromir's skin began to glow. It was subtle, but there, and Alianor rejoiced. She looked up at the sky, closed her eyes and sent her prayer of thanks to the Valar, thanking them for sparing his life.

"What was that you gave him?" Aragorn questioned.

"The tears of Varda and the pure waters of Valinor. My grandmother gave it to me as a gift. She must have foreseen this, and gave me the tools to save him." Alianor answered, her voice wavering in places. Aragorn took her bloodied hand, and kissed the back of it, to comfort her, and she felt better instantly.

Boromir's chest rose and fell, steady breaths leaving him. Legolas and Gimli, having found them, had watched the entire scene with disbelief. The Lady Alianor had stopped death. She had saved Boromir's life.

The four conscious companions decided that Legolas and Aragorn would carry Boromir's body back to the shore where they would sail up towards the nearest Ranger outpost or cave, somewhere where Boromir could be safe. They moved quickly through the forest, though not as quickly as they could considering that Legolas and Aragorn carried Boromir between them.

As soon as they got to the shore, Legolas and Aragorn laid Boromir into a boat, his sword and shield on either side of him. Legolas would paddle Boromir downstream with Aragorn leading the way, with Alianor and Gimli in his boat. Alianor and Aragorn would often take their eyes of their path to look towards Boromir to see if his condition had changed, but each time he was still unconscious, but breathing.

Aragorn remembered an old outpost nearby, so set their course and, after what seemed to take hours, Aragorn gestured to Legolas to head to the eastern shore. They moored the boats, and the Elf Prince and the Man hoisted Boromir into their arms, and carried him through the forest, with the Dwarf and Woman of their group following behind, carrying Boromir's belongings with some supplies.

When they found the outpost, Alianor went inside first to be certain it wasn't being used by Orcs so they could ambush any travellers that dared to use it. Once she was happy that they wouldn't be killed in the night by anyone hiding within the surprisingly large hut that had been built underground, she called to her companions to bring in the unconscious Steward Prince. She was also surprised to find that other than a lack of edible food, the hut was well stocked with medicines and mead and a small amount of salted meats that had kept.

This time when the two males placed Boromir down, on an old bed that must have been used for injured rangers, he awoke with a gasp, and Alianor batted them out of the way.

"Boromir, how do you feel?" She questioned, taking his face into her hands, and staring into his eyes to gauge how much life was really in him. By that alone, he seemed almost…fine.

"I feel…replenished. What kind of miracle did you perform, my lady? I feel better than I have in years!" Boromir beamed at her, albeit tiredly and tried to sit up, but Alianor and Aragorn pushed him back down, careful of his chest area.

"No miracle, Steward Prince, just the blessings of the Valar and a healing elixir. I believe your stubbornness also had a part to play in your survival." Alianor replied, her lips twitching, as she fought off a smile.

Then it dawned on Boromir that the three males were still with them, and his expression turned dark. Alianor frowned at this. He had no right nor reason to glare as he was at the Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli. They had all fought valiantly and now had two Halflings fates resting on their shoulders. They did not need his disapproval as a burden as well.

"You should have left me to die, and went after the little ones!" Boromir hissed at them, and Aragorn held his hands up, palms forward, in an attempt to calm Boromir and his rage.

"We are about to leave. Alianor will remain with you, and when you are ready to move, she will take you to Rohan where you will seek refuge until we arrive with the Hobbits." Aragorn informed the injured man, and that seemed to quell his anger. His eyes turned thoughtful. Alianor would be alone with him and tending to him? He could think of worse nurses. Like his father or Gimli.

Aragorn and Legolas had insisted on hunting for the pair that would remain behind, for the few days that they would stay in the outpost they would need to eat. Especially Boromir. He would need to eat to regain his full strength.

When the two returned, Aragorn let Legolas take their quarry into the store, and beckoned Alianor outside. She left Boromir's side, and followed Aragorn until they were out of sight of the ranger's outpost and all its inhabitants.

Alianor arched a brow at Aragorn and guessed his thoughts.

"I will not say goodbye. We will be reunited soon, and Boromir will be back to his full strength." Alianor said, sounding almost too enthusiastic about their situation.

Aragorn nodded, but he gazed at her in a way she had seen only twice before, and both times he had tried to say goodbye. She stared at him, a steel in her eyes, until he finally said what she had been dreading.

"After you accompany Boromir to Rohan, I want you to ride back to Rivendell or Lothlorien, and take the ship to the Undying Lands." Aragorn said, and Alianor felt her heart sink into her boots.

"I have already told you that I will not take the ships westward. I will not leave while you still draw breath." Alianor replied.

"This is not your fight, mela." Aragorn retorted, but didn't say anything more as Alianor glared at him, with a dark fire in her eyes that sent a shiver down his spine.

"This is our fight," Alianor snapped, hurriedly continuing before Aragorn could get another word in. She stepped closer to him, and Aragorn stayed routed to the spot, not backing down from her advancement. "Yours and mine. Your path has been laid before your very feet since before you were born. I have had to open my eyes to see my own, but I know now where I am supposed to be. And that is fighting at your side on the plains before Minas Tirith, before you take your crown. You cannot deny me that, because it is my choice. Not yours."

Aragorn stayed silent, but nodded. He could not take away her decisions, as much as he wished he could at times. Her choices would lead her down dark, dangerous paths that he wished to protect her from, but he knew he could not always protect her.

"_Don't let us part on such horrible terms, Estel. Let us part in peace and love. Not with heated words_." Alianor said in elvish, stepping closer to him, and dropping her head forward, so their foreheads rested against each other.

Aragorn wrapped his arms around her, and pressed his lips to her dark hair. Alianor sighed with sadness. She did not wish to be separated from Aragorn, even for a few days. They had been separated for four years, and she had not fared well then. She did not want to seem as though she were dependent on a man, because that was not the case, but she always felt slightly lost without Aragorn with her. Because she loved him, and he continuously saved her, even in the moments she did not think she could be saved.

"_Remember, mela, the shadow's hold has no sway over us yet. Nor Merry and Pippin. You will find them and bring them back to those who love them and then we will be together once more_." Alianor said, taking Aragorn's dirty and skinned hands into hers and gripped them tight.

Aragorn titled her chin up, and pressed his mouth to hers, hard and passionate, and Alianor closed her eyes under the intensity of it. She held back her tears as they kissed, because she did not want to believe that this would be their final goodbye. Any manner of things could prevent their reunion, but she could not bear to think of such things.

"Be safe, _mela_. Take care of Boromir, and then head to Rohan. Théoden will give you shelter. He was very taken with you when he was a boy. Let us hope he remembers your kindness and beauty," Aragorn replied, kissing her once more, before stepping away from her. He could see Legolas and Gimli waiting for him in the distance, and he felt his heart ache. He did not want to leave his love behind, though he knew it to be necessary. "_Namárië, meleth nín_."

"_Na Elbereth veria le, meleth nín, na lu n'i a-goveninc. Meleth n__ín,_ my king." Alianor said, reluctantly, lowering her body into a curtsey, before quickly straightening again, and fled to the outpost.

She knew in her heart that she would see Aragorn and her friends again, but she did not know under what circumstances would their reunion be. She felt something was coming. A turn of the tide, a good omen for a change. Perhaps the Valar would send them a gift to help them beat the darkness.

But for now, she went to Boromir's side, and tended to his wounds, not wanting to watch Aragorn leave, and having nothing better to do for now. Her path was becoming clearer to her, but only time would help her see where it would end.

Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli set off back up the river to regain the trail of the Orcs that had kidnapped Merry and Pippin, Alianor tended to Boromir in the Ranger's outpost, and Frodo and Sam had crossed the river and were beginning the journey eastward towards Mordor. And so the Fellowship was broken, but not beyond repair.

**A/N**

_Namárië, meleth nín -_ Farewell, my love.

_Na Elbereth veria le, meleth nín, na lu n'i a-goveninc - _May Elbereth protect you, my love, until next we meet.


End file.
